Broken Wings
by Lhiannan-Sidhe
Summary: AU. A rebel attack changes the course of history when it brings Vader to Tatooine ten years before ANH. Luke is taken from his guardians by his father. As time passes, the scared young boy turns into a disturbed young man, touched by the Darkside.
1. Home Edited

Broken Wings

**Edit Notice 5/20/2005**: It's been an insanely long time since I updated this, and, well I'm sure some of got peeved/gave up, but I'm going to finish it. Let it not be said that I don't listen to my reviewers (see Gene, it's not futile!).

I've just seen episode three, so I'm going to go back and alter bits of the story to fit the actual cannon information, so this is going to be tagged with an episode three spoiler warning.

Yes, this is an alternate universe story, but it only branches away from the official timeline when Luke is nine, and I'd like to stick with that. This means that as I replace chapters with edited versions (edited for cannon information, grammar, spelling, formatting and just because I feel like changing things), bits of the story will be considerably different, if you've read it before, you might want to go back and re-read those bits. Or don't if you don't feel like it because the basic plot will (probably) remain the same.

As I edit each chapter, I will put a notice on that chapter and the date I edited, so you'll know which chapters have been changed so far and which haven't.

Edited chapters will come out every few days and when I'm done with those, new chapters with appear about once a week.

**Stuff changed in this chapter**: Large additions to Vader's and Obi-Wan's sections. Other additions over all. Grammar/spelling/formatting/awkward wording corrected all over the place (did I really make that many errors?). Basic plot has remained the same.

**Summery**: AU. A rebel attack changes the course of history when it brings Vader to Tatooine ten years before ANH. Luke is taken from his guardians by his father. The scared boy turns into a disturbed young man, touched by the Darkside and the fate of the galaxy may rest on his shoulders.

_Begin at the beginning, keep going until you reach the end, then stop._

I shall repeat this to myself as I attempt to write my first piece of Star Wars fan fiction.

**Disclaimer**: Don't own it, not making any money.

**Time-line**: This begins approximately ten years before the events of A New Hope, so Luke is nine years old, though most of the story will take place considerably closer to the movies.

**Author's Notes**:

Yeah, I know what you're all thinking, "Great, another one of _these_." I know there a lot of Vader raises Luke stories, but I will try to make this one different. In most of the stories Vader seems too fatherly to me. The Dark Lord of the Sith is not a nice guy. This will be a fairly dark story, so consider yourself warned.

Secondly, I haven't read many of the books, and I haven't liked most of the ones I have read, with the possible exception of Zahn's work. In my opinion, most of it's like bad fan-fiction you have to pay for. So don't expect to see too many book characters in here. I will try to keep the information within this story consistent with the cannon, but I'm not giving any promises. I'm not, after all, a Star Wars trivia master or anything.

There will be a number of original characters, in the interests of advancing the plot. But don't worry, there'll be no annoying Mary Sue/Marty Stu type characters making people randomly fall in love with them or taking the spotlight from the real stars.

Lastly, I have nothing against constructive criticism, suggestions and so on, think this is really on the best ways in which I can hope to improve, but a very annoying person has been flaming me lately. I've tried blocking her account, but she was still able to post a flame, so please ignore her.

* * *

**Chapter One**

From space Tatooine look like nothing more then a massive sandy colored ball of dust. This, reflected Darth Vader, was a perfectly accurate summery as far as he was concerned. He had certainly had never had any intention of returning to this cursed place. He certainly never had any intention going this far out into the rim, but unfortunately fate rarely seemed to have his intentions in mind.

The Star Destroyer Anguish had left Coruscant earlier that year, carrying a full compliment of TIE fighters. The Emperor's orders had been clear; to hunt down whatever rebels dared show themselves. Vader had, at the behest of his master, joined the mission. At the time it had seemed like something of a reprieve from the endless scheming of petty politicians that he was forced to endure daily in the imperial court, but the mission had quickly turned into a long and arduous chase as the fledgling rebellion had used every conceivable trick and all available speed to evade the Empire's grasp.

They had finally managed to engage, or rather had finally been engaged by the rebel forces, only a few days ago. The idiotic, over-confident, fool who had been placed in the position of captain had sadly underestimated the rebels' abilities and had not even conceived of the notion that they might, in their desperation, attempted a surprise attack. As a result, Anguish had lost a large portion of its TIE compliment, taken heavy damage, and now required new supplies in order to complete the repairs. Vader had strangled the fool himself.

Now, looking out the view screen at the hideous mass of Tatooine, the one place in the galaxy he least wanted to return to, Vader wished he had killed the man far, far more slowly. What bizarre twist of fate, had made this hellhole the closest inhabited system?

Yet for some strange reason, he felt compelled to stare at the place where his journey to the darkside began so many years ago. Some part of himself, long buried, felt... pain, at the memories of this place, memories of his mother's death. He ruthlessly squashed those emotions, driving them out of his mind. Such feelings, and such memories no longer had any place in his life. He had no family.

_Flicker_

Vader jerked out of his revere with a start. The officer to his right eyed the Sith Lord wearily, the death of his commanding officer clearly still on his mind. Someone on the planet below had just grasped the force.

Vader opened himself to the force as he tried to track down the presence. It was so… familiar. A Jedi, perhaps? One he had known, a lifetime ago during the clone wars, or perhaps in the Jedi temple? If so, Vader would gladly continue his purge.

_Flicker_

No, not a Jedi. Whoever it was, was untrained. The power spoke of an instinctive, elusive grasping at the force, a sign of great potential. The strange familiarity became more pronounced, as if he had somehow felt this individual's power before. Impossible.

As the odd power surged again, a vision came into Vader's mind, a single image of the desert flats, the vista broken only by a small homestead.

Darth Vader turned around abruptly. "Commander," he intoned, "Have my personal shuttle prepared immediately."

He almost didn't hear the officer's startled, "Yes, my lord."

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi, more commonly known as Old Ben, sat on a rock outcropping watching the twin suns of Tatooine, Tatoo1 and 2, rise over the seemingly endless expanse of the Dune Sea. He tied to calm his mind for meditation, but his thoughts would give him no rest. Nine years, he had spent on this planet. Sometimes he found himself enraptured by the desolate beauty of the desert. As the twin suns rose above the farthest sand dunes, the horizon was painted first brilliant purple, then red. Light reflected off glass particles in the sand and made the Dune Sea seem to shimmer.

Yes, sometimes he could appreciate the beauty of this place. Other times he thought he was going mad from the isolation, left alone with only the ghosts of the past for company. Padmé seemed to look down on him from the stars, Qui-Gon walked with a child Anakin by his side.

His occasional conversations with Qui-Gon gave him some comfort, and he was certain he had learned as much as he could of his old master's technique, yet the conversations were themselves rare and did not make up for the lack of true personal contact. For all of Qui-Gon's gentle guidance and conversation with a specter was not the same as conversation with a living being.

He rarely crossed the Dune Sea, to where settlements were more common for fear of being recognized by an imperial solder, or bounty hunter. He had come too far, done too much to protect Luke and his sister, to risk capture. Vader must have known that he was still alive and the hatred in his old apprentice's eyes, that fateful day they had battled above the lava flows, told him that the Sith would search for him till one of them finally lay dead.

He supposed it had been both a fool impulse and a true cruelty that stayed his hand that day. He should have simply killed Anakin, killed Vader, as he lay helpless on the scorching earth, calling curses on Obi-Wan. When the magma had ignited the Sith's robes and consumed him in fire, Obi-Wan was certain that it was the end.

So he had walked away, unable to bring himself to place the finishing blow against the man he had considered a brother and put the shattered husk of Anakin Skywalker out of his misery. He had walked away and completed what must have been one of the greatest errors of his life.

No, it was simply another error in a lifetime of errors.

He felt Luke's familiar, faint grasping of the force and smiled. The boy would be strong one day, perhaps stronger then his father.

Obi-Wan had visited the Lars to check on Luke, though Owen had made it clear that he wasn't welcome there. There always seemed to be a fear to Owen Lars. Fear of Vader, and fear the Obi-Wan would come to take Luke away for training. For all his gruff demeanor, Owen didn't want to lose is adopted son.

Beru was slightly more welcoming, and Luke honestly seemed to enjoy his company, smiling with that sort of warm understanding empathy that only the truly innocent could create.

He couldn't remember if Anakin had ever smiled like that, if Anakin had ever been truly innocent. There were so many things he seemed to be forgetting.

He made few other trips except when he needed supplies, and then he took care to be inconspicuous. Those who knew him though of him only as "Crazy Old Ben", a title, that he had welcomed, even encouraged. Who would ever bother Crazy Old Ben, or think him a threat?

_Threat_

The word seemed to be whispered in his mind in long forgotten voices. He was filled with feelings of foreboding._ Something is coming! _The force seemed to scream at him.

He opened his eyes and stared across the sands.

_Luke!_

He needed to get to the boy, to protect him. The feelings of dread increased. How long would it take him to cross the dunes and reach the Lars homestead?

* * *

Luke laughed as the wind blew his hair back from his face and pulled at his clothing. He held on to the swoop bike, as he flew across the desolate Tatooine landscape at breakneck speed. At just over nine years old, he was barely tall enough to reach the peddles, but more then capable of controlling the bike – even at these speeds. Not too far behind him he could hear the roar of another bike. His best-friend, Biggs, was gaining on him. Luke grinned and pushed the speed peddle down further.

There were few, rare times such as this, that he felt as if he were truly at peace with himself. He felt as if he could see everything around him, feel everything that was about to happen. It was great! Out here, nothing bothered him. It was the only time that no doubts or fears invaded his mind.

He tried not to think about what Aunt Beru would say about him racing a borrowed swoop, much less what Uncle Owen would _do._ He was, after all, very young to be racing, but Luke didn't care, it all came so easily. It felt so _right_.

He wondered of his father had ever done this. Raced across the flats, with nothing to distract him but the sound of the motor and feel of the wind.

Luke spotted the makeshift finish line coming up, and let out a whoop of triumph as he crossed it well ahead of his opponent.

He slowed his bike and brought it back around just as Biggs crossed on his swoop. Luke jumped from his seat and ran over to the small group of adolescents crowded around the pile of rocks they had set as the finish line. Biggs followed a moment later.

His friends sat clustered together. Some of them cheered him as he approached, flushed with victory. One of them, Coric, was handing a small number of credits over to a short boy named Tullen. Short was of course a relative term, as he was still taller then Luke.

There were only seven of them total, people were rare in Tatooine's harsh climate, but the few that found each other tended to band together against the endless monotony of the desert wastes, and the younglings that found one another tended to develop deep bonds.

Swoop racing had recently become a favored activity amongst Luke's friends in particular, after Biggs had bought a bike, and another member of the band had built one.

The oldest of their band was a quiet sixteen-year old nicknamed Brake. The towering, muscular Coric, was only a few months younger, though he looked much older then any of the others. Tullen, at ten, was the second youngest, but often displayed a surprising level of maturity and intelligence, and a decidedly devious streak. Luke had long ago learned not to make bets with Tullen. Coric, stubborn as he was, seemed to be taking much longer to absorb this lesson.

"What the heck were you thinking, Luke?" Biggs asked as he caught up with his younger friend, who was pulling off the over-sized helmet he had been wearing. "What made you think you could handle that thing at that speed? That was nuts!"

"I knew what I was doing," Luke protested, feeling slightly abashed.

Biggs glared at him. "You've ridden a Swoop, what? Two, three, times before this? You could have been seriously hurt!"

"Give it a rest, Biggs." piped up Jarru, the group's only girl. A plain kid of about thirteen, she sat on the sand with the last member of their little band, her best friend, Tinker. The two of them seemed to be messing with spare electrical parts, probably acquired from Tinker's mother, who owned a small store in Anchorhead. "The boy's good, he seems to know what he's doing."

Luke grinned gratefully at her as he tossed Tinker the helmet he had borrowed. Biggs sometimes seemed to treat him like a younger brother. Looking up at his best friend, he could tell that he hadn't heard the last of this.

"Just don't wreck my swoop," Jarru said with mock seriousness, as Tinker took the gadget from her and began to fool with it himself. "Must have took Tinker and me ten months to get that old piece of junk working," she said, picking up another random piece of electronics out of a sack Tinker was carrying and began fiddling with it.

"I could help you with it. I do repair work for my uncle all the time," Luke said, dropping down on one of the rocks.

"No, thanks, Luke, we can mange," Tinker piped up with a grin. A tall, skinny, boy, Tinker responded to every challenge with grace, and every insult with calm, good humor. He seemed to be Jarru's polar opposite in temperament, who responded to every challenge as personal insult, and to every insult with her fists. The differences in their personalities seemed to only be emphasized by the differences in their builds. While Tinker was tall, Jarru was short and surprisingly compact, a feature earned from a childhood of helping her father in his shop. Aunt Beru had once said that opposites attract, Luke thought a shared love of all things electrical, mechanical, or computerized, was a more likely cause for their strange friendship.

"I really can help, you know," Luke said, almost petulantly.

Tinker just smiled in apparent good nature. "We know, you're probably better than either of us, but that would take all the fun out of it."

Luke nodded, he realized that there were certain activities that the two were only willing to share with each other.

Biggs settled down next to Luke, holding his own helmet under his arm. Luke could tell his friend was still upset with him. An awkward silence stretched between them for a short time before being broken by a loud argument between Coric and Tullen about the nature of their bet while Brake looked on, his usually morose eyes touched with amusement. Biggs and Luke shared a grin. Some people never learned.

Luke glanced up for a second, the twin suns of Tatooine, shone brightly in the sky above, slowly baking everything with their ever-present heat. Luke watched the sky for a moment before realizing that Tatoo1 was well on its way to the noon marker.

Luke blinked. "Uh, oh."

Biggs turned to Luke as he jumped up off his perch. "Eh? Luke? What is it?"

"I gotta get back to the farm," he said franticly, while trying to wipe the dust from his ride off of his clothing. "Uncle Owen said that if I don't finish my morning chores before lunch today I'll be grounded for a week."

"No problem," Biggs said as he also stood. "I'll give you a ride home."

Luke smiled sheepishly, remembering again why his friend had been annoyed at him. "Thanks, Biggs. And I'm sorry about, well, you know."

"No problem, just don't do that again. Imagine how I'd feel if I had to tell your aunt and uncle that you got yourself blown up, and after I promised to look after you." Biggs said jokingly. "No seriously Luke," he said, his eyes darkening, "You shouldn't take such crazy risks."

"Yes Sir! Commander Darklighter, sir!" Luke said, adopting a ridiculously stiff, solder-like posture and saluting. The two of them broke down into fits of laughter.

Tinker looked up from his conversation with Jarru, "You two heading back?" he asked.

"Yeah, Luke needs to get back to the farm." Biggs said, regaining his composer.

"We'll come with you," Jarru called, beginning to scope the bits of junk that she and Tinker had been fooling with back into the bag. "Luke, you can show us that droid you repaired, and I still need to thank your aunt for that food she sent to me and my dad."

"Bye, guys!" Luke called out to his three other friends as he climbed onto the back of Biggs' speeder. The two combatants didn't even seem to notice.

As Jarru and Tinker climbed on their bike, Brake could be heard loudly telling his two arguing friends to either shut up and get in the speeder, or walk home. That seemed to end the fight just as quickly as it had begun.

* * *

Beru Lars looked out the window for what had to be the hundredth time that morning. Luke had left early to visit some friends. Even though she knew who he would be with she still found herself worrying about him. Sandpeople rarely attacked in board daylight, but it had been known to happen.

_Nine is far too young to be running off like this!_ she thought to herself, remembering the wrapped corpse of Luke's grandmother being brought back to the farm. They'd lost too many friends to Sandpeople raids.

She sighed as she caught herself worrying about him too much. Luke was like the son she had never had.

Sometimes she liked to pretend that was why her husband was so hard on the boy, he was reminded of what they didn't, they couldn't, have. But she knew that wasn't true. She knew the real reason: It was fear. It was fear of the boy's father. It was fear of Luke becoming like his father, or being taken away, or harmed by anyone who might discover the truth, who might want revenge against the monster that was Darth Vader, that had been Anakin Skywalker, Luke's father.

It wasn't that Owen didn't love the boy, quite the opposite, he wanted to protect him. Only Luke didn't want to be protected, and the more he fought and defied his uncle, the harder Owen became.

She was pulled out of her reverie by the sound of engines and childish laughter. Luke had returned. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Turning to the window she looked out to see Luke and his friends dismounting from a pair of old looking swoop bikes. She pursed her lips. Nine was definitely too young to be riding on of those dangerous contraptions. She would have to have a word with Luke - out of Owen's hearing, of course.

The door burst open and Luke and is friends ran inside and down into the courtyard.

"Just wait till you see!" Luke was saying, "Most of his circuiting was shorted out, and some of it was acutely melted! But I think I fixed it up pretty good, he seems to run just fine..."

"Luke!" She called out to him. Luke and his friends stopped and turned around to look up at her. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" She asked, carefully descending.

"Sorry, Aunt Beru," he said as he began to introduce his three friends. Biggs she knew already. He was certainly over often enough. The girl she recognized as Adeen Dustchaser's odd daughter. The boy was one of the Krimms, Asphastos she thought he was called, though they seemed to have given him a strange nickname.

She smiled and greeted all of them politely. Luke fidgeted throughout the whole process. He was always so impatient.

"Hey, what's going on down there?" her husband's voice called from above. Owen's head appeared, he leaning over the railing above the courtyard.

"Luke's brought some of his friends over. Come down and meet them!" She called up to her husband. A moment later Owen Lars appeared at the top of the stairs. He had clearly been out working on the vaporators; his hair was wind blown and he had grimy stains on his face and clothing.

"Eh? What's this? The boy doesn't have time for friends, he has chores to do," Owen said with a sour expression. Clearly struggling with the machinery hadn't put him in a very good mood.

She sighed in exasperation, "Oh, don't be ridicules dear. They're our..."

"What's that sound?" Biggs asked, interrupting her.

"Excuse me?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"It's sort of a humming noise, kinda quiet. It's getting louder." he said, looking up towards the sky.

"I hear it too." Luke said looking upwards, searching for the source of the noise.

Beru felt rather then heard, her husband's intake of breath. "It's a ship," he nearly whispered. Beru felt herself go stiff. Luke apparently missed his aunt's apprehension because he looked up at her, his eyes filled with excitement.

"A starship? Can I go see? Please?"

"No!" Owen said harshly. "Beru, watch over them, I'll be back in a moment." With that, he turned to run up the stairs.

"Aunt Beru? Why can't I go see?" Luke pleaded, blue eyes shining.

"Hush, Luke." she said, not taking her eyes away from the door. Luke and his friends seemed to notice the fear in her voice, because the stayed quite while they waited.

To Beru it seemed like longest five minuets of her life. _It's just some lost travelers, who else would come out hear?_ But even as she thought the words she knew they weren't true.

Owen came taring back down the stairs and answered her unasked question with a nod. She expelled the breath she was holding. "What do we do?"

He looked at her for a moment, eyes tight but full of determination, before turning to the children. "You four, this way," he said, leading them to the oldest storage room. "Stay in here until either Beru, or I come to get you. Do you understand?" he asked.

"Uncle Owen, what's going on? Why are you and Aunt Beru so scared?" Luke asked as hid friends settled down into the old room.

"Not now, Luke! For once just do what I say!" Owen snapped, before pushing Luke into the room and closing the door.

"Owen..." Beru began, not certain what she was going to say.

He just shook his head. "We knew this day might come when we took him in. Best we can do is face it on our feet."

She smiled at him, for his bravery, for his strength. Yes, he loved the boy, and he would do his best to protect him. So would she.


	2. Taken Edited

**Edited 5/21/2005**

Stuff changed in this chapter: Grammar/spelling/formatting corrections. Minor story change. Some additions.

**Author's Notes**: Hello again and thanks to everyone who wrote a review, plus a big thanks to those who answered my question. The story should really get going in the third chapter. But for now, without further ado...

* * *

Broken Wings

Chapter Two

The two of them stood in front of the farm as the shuttle doors opened. They carried no weapons, they knew they would be useless. Stormtroopers filed out of the shuttle, their white armor gleaming in Tatooine's harsh light. They surrounded the two farmers.

Beru stood tall next to her husband. She could hear Vader coming before she could see him. His dark figure seemed to bring night into the day. She heard herself gasp. This was Anakin? The same handsome young man who had come Tatooine all those years ago seeking his mother? She had heard stories of Darth Vader, but still it had been so hard to believe until now. She forced her hands to stop trembling. Owen was tensing next to her as if preparing for combat.

The world seemed to halt as Vader stood before them. Even the ever-present wind stopped blowing. She felt as if those hard, black eyes were boring into her.

"Where is he?" Vader's voice seemed to shatter the silence like braking glass. Everything was falling down around her, falling away.

"I don't know what you're talking about. The Empire doesn't have any authority here." Her husbands voice was firm, but she could hear the fear behind it. He was about to say something else, when the butt of a stormtrooper's rifle connected with his head. He collapsed in a heap, dazed.

Beru fought her instinct to check on him. She kept her eyes looked on Vader. _Oh Owen, this is the end._

"I will ask one more time. Where is he?"

She didn't answer, she didn't flinch, even when he approached her. He stopped less then an arm's length away. She could see herself reflected in his mask. He stood before her, silent for a long moment. His gaze turned away from her, instead looking towards the building behind her. It felt as if he was searching for something, somehow, and she knew what.

He stepped away from her, and turned to one of the stormtroopers. Once again his voice seemed to shatter the silence. Once again, things began to look worse. "Commander, have your men search the buildings, you will find four children. Bring them to me."

Vader stood calmly, appearing impassive as the four children were dragged from their hiding place. Deep inside emotions warred in that long buried place, but he would not let them affect his calm. He had suspected the truth, some part of him seemed to have known, but he hadn't been certain until he saw the truth in the woman's thoughts.

The remaining stormtroopers stood with their rifles trained at Owen Lars and his wife. The man, his _stepbrother, _was standing now, but his eyes were unfocused, and he swayed on his feet. His wife stood next to him, holding him steady, looking both sad and frightened.

Vader turned to survey the four children. The first was a girl. Small and stocky, her fear was nearly overwhelmed by her anger. She was of no consequence. Next to her was a tall fragile looking boy, his calm exterior hiding terror as great as any of the others. The next, another boy, average height, dark haired, was not the one Vader was seeking. But next to him...

The last of the children looked towards him with bright blue eyes, wide with shock. Sandy hair fell into a tanned face making him an image from Vader's past. Some part of his long dead heart stirred at the sight, briefly, and then died again.

_His son._

He could feel the boy transmitting his feelings through the force. Anger, fear, and... curiosity, echoed through his mind. There was something else there. An emotion that flickered so quickly he couldn't identify it.

There was power there, inside the boy; a potential stronger then anything he had ever sensed. The boy would be powerful, after he was trained by the Emperor. He realized that, for the first time since he had sensed the boy, he had given a thought to what to do with him. Before then he had only thought of discovering the source of the presence he had felt, or dealing with a potential threat. Now he knew what he was to do, he would bring the boy before the Emperor. His master would not turn away such a potentially useful tool.

_Tool?__ Oh Anakin, he's your son!_

The words echoed through his mind in Padmé's voice. Brief anger flared within him.

_I am not Anakin._

The voice didn't answer, but then he hadn't been expecting it to.

"Bring that one," he said, indicating the smallest child. The boy's eyes widened, fear overwhelming the other emotions.

It seemed so… appropriate that this boy, the final remnant of Padmé's betrayal and the child whose very conception had helped bring about the destruction of the Jedi order would be trained as a Sith in the Emperor's service.

"No! Luke!" Beru Lars called out. She tried to go to the boy, but both she and her husband were quickly restrained by stormtroopers.

_Luke, his name is Luke. Skywalker? _An irrelevant thought, the boy's name, could and would be changed.

Two of the white-clad solders moved forward to grab the boy. He stumbled back a few paces. One of them seized his arm. In that moment the other three children seemed to recover from their shock. The dark-haired one launched himself at the stormtrooper that was holding the boy. The girl grabbed the other one's rifle and attempted to wrest it away. Time seemed to stretch out. The stalemate was broken by the sound of blaster fire. The dark-haired boy collapsed to his knees, an smoking wound on his upper leg. The second stormtrooper pulled his weapon away from the girl, and struck her in the face with the butt end. The tall boy caught her before she fell. Blood from her nose covered her face.

"Jarru! Biggs!" Luke called out. He tried to help his fallen friend but was seized by the imperial solders.

Vader looked on in disdain. Children could never hope to defeat imperial stormtroopers. Owen Lars was cussing and struggling, Beru just looked on in shock. The stormtroopers pulled Luke away from his friends and brought him before Vader. He could sense the boys emotions all the more clearly for the proximity. There was anger again, more then before, but still covered by fear.

His son turned blue eyes up towards Vader, he could have reached out and touched the black armor. Beru pulled herself away with a cry and landed at his feet. Luke looked over at her, too afraid to say anything. She turned tear filled eyes onto the Sith Lord.

"Anakin, please, let him go," she said, so quietly he barely heard, so did Luke.

Luke snapped wide eyes from his aunt to Vader. He mouthed the words _Anakin_, and _father_. He was visibly shaking now.

Vader felt anger fill him. This woman, who had helped hide his son away from him, had no right to call him by that name, no one did. He glared at her, sensing her emotions. There was terror, and pain, and... pity? For the boy? No, the pity was for him. This pathetic, backwater, farmer dared to pity him. He slowly turned his head from the woman.

"Kill both the farmers," he ordered. Owen Lars continue to struggle, Beru just turned her gaze downwards.

"Yes, Lord Vader." The nearest troopers raised their rifles.

How had this child come to be here? When he had been told of Padmé's death he had been certain that child must have died as well. Obi-Wan must have hidden…

"No!" Vader heard Luke's exclamation at the same time he felt the darkside surge. Four stormtroopers were thrown off their feet. One collided with the farmhouse wall and remained still. The strength was impressive, impossible, he would have thought had he not witnessed it. Yes, the boy would be very useful.

Luke stood there for a moment, his eyes unfocused, before collapsing at Vader's feet drained.

Owen Lars had stopped struggling, Beru Lars looked up, tears pouring from her eyes. The three children were huddled together for comfort. Even the stormtroopers seemed alarmed. The other three stormtroopers staggered to their feet. One was dragging his leg oddly.

"Well, Commander?" Vader asked, his expressionless mask turned towards the leader of the troopers.

Two rifles were raised, and two shots fired. Owen and Beru Lars collapsed, motionless. The force flickered as they died. On the sand Luke moved slightly and then lay still again.

Vader regarded his son for a moment, before bending over and lifting his alarmingly light form. He turned and began to walk back to his shuttle.

"L-Lord Vader? What do you want us to do with the children?" The commander asked, clearly afraid of the answer.

Visions of the sandpeople children came to him, and of the Jedi children looking at him with hope as he entered the council chamber where they had hidden. He remembered watching their hope turn to shock and then terror.

Vader didn't turn from his path. "Leave them. They are of no consequence." The stormtrooper's relief was almost palpable.

Before disappearing into his shuttle, Vader heard the sounds of a child crying, and the stormtroopers dragging the body of their fallen comrade.

* * *

_I've failed. I'm sorry Padmé._

Obi-Wan watched the grave at his feet.

_Owen, Beru, I shouldn't have brought him here._

_Luke..._

He closed his eyes, feeling tears staining his cheeks.

He had arrived too late. As he approached he felt Vader's presence, confirming his worst fears. He had hidden his own presence, while pushing the speeder as fast as it would go. When he felt someone grasp the darkside of the force, he had fear that Vader had struck out against his own son. But it hadn't been Vader, it had been Luke.

The similarities were too painful, hadn't Anakin been Luke's age when he was taken to the Jedi Order? But Luke wasn't being taken to the Jedi, he was being taken to Palpatine. This was a hundred times worse.

Upon his arrival at the Lars' farm he had found the bodies of Owen and Beru and three very frightened children, Luke's friends. Immediate concerns had mercifully driven thoughts of Luke out of his mind for a time.

He had comforted the children, and dealt as best he could with their, thankfully minor, wounds. The boy named Biggs would walk with a limp, possibly for the rest of his life, the girl's nose was badly broken, but they would live. Knowing Vader, he would have expected far worse. The memory of the massacre at the Jedi temple had remained fresh in his mind even after all these decades.

Together, he and Luke's three friends, had buried the bodies of Owen and Beru Lars, next to the plot where years before Anakin had buried his mother. Shmi's grave now stood flanked by her husband and her stepson.

Obi-Wan pulled himself from his thoughts. He brought his gaze up briefly to the darkening sky. He turned to the children. Emotionally and physically exhausted, they sat together in the lengthening shade of the Lars homestead, trying to give each other what comfort they could.

He smiled at them, gently and sadly. "I'm afraid there won't be the time to see you three safely home before sunset. We will have to remain here this night."

Because all three of the children were reluctant to enter the now abandoned farm buildings, they built a fire just outside with supplies from Obi-Wan's speeder. He let them have the blankets, the cold had long ceased to bother him.

"Mr. Kenobi?" Luke's best friend, Biggs asked hesitantly once they were all settled down.

"Call me Ben."

"Why," He began and then stopped. Obi-Wan motioned for him to continue. "Why did they take Luke?"

Obi-Wan sighed. He had been expecting this question, almost dreading it. He was still uncertain how much to tell them. "It was because of Luke's father," he told them.

The taller boy, Tinker, and the girl, Jarru, looked up at Obi-Wan.

"Why?" The boy asked. "I thought Luke's father was a navigator."

Obi-Wan shook his head, slowly. He stoked the fire while composing his thoughts. "No, Luke's father was a Jedi Knight" He heard their collective intake of breath. These children, like so many others, had grown up knowing that the Jedi must die. At least these had heard of the order. The once powerful order of Jedi Knights was being slowly forgotten by a galaxy that had been forced to deny its existence.

"Were you, are you a Jedi?" Biggs asked, eyes shining with unshed tears in the light of the fire.

"I am," Kenobi told them simply.

"Why are you here? On Tatooine? Shouldn't you be fighting the Empire with the Alliance or something?" Biggs asked, becoming more brave.

"I am here, or was here, to protect Luke"

"You didn't do a very god job, did you?" the girl asked acidly, speaking up for the first time.

Obi-Wan locked his eyes on her face until she looked away. He looked into the fire. "No, I didn't," he said, the pain in his voice evident.

_Another error… am I capable of anything else?_

"I'm sorry." She whispered into her blankets and took to picking at the bacta patch over her newly re-set nose. Obi-Wan took her hand patiently and pulled it away from the bandage.

"What are they going to do with Luke?" Biggs asked, his voice shaking.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I don't know."

Later, after all they had all finally fallen asleep, Obi-Wan sat watching the stars. Luke was lost to them, possibly forever, but the girl, Luke's sister could still be trained. He would have to make the journey soon. Alderaan would be difficult to reach, and he would have to be careful to keep his identity hidden, lest he spark a final disaster.

How had Vader found them?

* * *

Luke awoke on a semi-hard surface. He opened his eyes to a bright white glare. That wasn't right, it was too cold to be this bright. He blinked a few times, and his surroundings popped into focus. The brightness wasn't coming from Tatooine's suns, he was simply in a bright room, with white walls and ceiling. The light was coming from a number of glow panels in the ceiling. That definitely wasn't right.

He sat up. He seemed to have be laying on a very hard bed. He looked around the room. The walls floor and ceiling were white, the furnishings, black, not that there were many furnishings. The bed sat against one wall. On the other side a small table with two very uncomfortable looking chairs sat next to a desk. There were two doors. It looked like there were two windows as well, but they were too high to see out of.

Luke grabbed his head and closed his eyes, he felt weird and kinda dizzy. How did he get here? His memories didn't seem to make any sense, they all felt so fuzzy.

He looked back up towards the windows. There wasn't any light coming out of them. Maybe it was night? He decided he'd better have a look.

He slid off the glossy black bed covers. He winced as his bare feet hit the freezing cold floor. He looked down and saw his shoes were neatly lined up at the foot of the bed. He pulled them on.

He tried the doors first. One was locked, the other lead to a simple 'fresher.

Luke looked around the room. The windows were small and well out of reach. He grabbed on of the chairs and tried to lift it. It was surprisingly heavy. He had to settle for pushing it instead.

The chair sliding across the bare floor made a loud grating sound. He winced, hoping he hadn't disturbed anyone. Then he realized that if someone came, they would be able to tell him where he was.

Unless they weren't friendly...

He tried to make as little noise as possible as he finished pushing the chair under the windows. He stepped up onto the seat, grabbed the window frame and tried to pull himself up. What he saw wasn't what he expected.

Beyond the glass, all he could see were bright steaks of light.

Luke's hands slipped and he fell off the chair and on to the hard floor with a jarring crash.

_Hyperdrive_? He wondered, rubbing his knee where he had hit it as he fell. Was he on a ship? He blinked and then shook his head, trying to clear it.

A spaceship had been coming. That's why Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen had made him hide, along with Biggs, Tinker, and Jarru. But the white armored men had dragged them out of there. Stormtroopers, they were stormtroopers. From the Empire? There had been a man in black armor. Vader? No, Aunt Beru had called him, Anakin. Anakin was his father's name. His father was dead, but the man in black had been there and he was called Anakin. The man in black was his father? That felt both weirdly correct and incredibly wrong.

Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen, had been afraid. It had looked like Aunt Beru was crying, right before...

He let out a choked sob as the memories came back to him. He lay there, on the floor, crying until sleep finally claimed him.

When Luke awoke, he was lying on the bed again, this time under the covers. How long had he been asleep? It felt like forever. He lay on the pillow for a while, holding back tears. When he couldn't bare to be left with his thoughts anymore, he sat up.

His clothing was different. He was wearing sleepwear made of some soft black material he didn't recognize. He looked around the room. His own clothing was gone. There was food on the table, but he didn't feel hungry. He walked over to investigate it nevertheless. He didn't recognize anything on the plates.

He walked over to the door first door. It was still locked. He went to use the 'fresher instead. Inside he found a set of clothing folded on a shelf, a simple tunic, pants, and boots. They were all black. Did everything here have to be black?

He washed himself and changed. Afterwards he felt hungry, so he sat down and ate the food without tasting any of it.

Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru were gone. He could feel their absence, not just because they weren't with him, but in a deeper, more permanent way. He still wanted to cry, but wouldn't let himself. What about his friends? He'd seen them hurt. We're they dead too? Bits and pieces of his memory were still fuzzy. The last thing he remembered was feeling scared and angry, and then... nothing. Then he had found himself here.

He felt a slight jolt. There was light coming from the windows now, but only a little. Luke walked over to the chair he had pushed under the window and climbed onto it with more caution than the last time. He hoisted himself up and looked out. There was a planet below him. It looked weirdly metallic, and seemed to be covered with small lights. There wasn't anything like that in the outer rim. How long had he been asleep?

* * *

Vader felt his the boy awaken from his force-induced sleep. He shouldn't have awoken until Vader himself came to wake him up. But the Dark Lord couldn't say he was entirely surprised. The boy had thrown off a memory block in a matter of minutes.

Once again he felt the boy's distress. It was an unpleasant sensation, and he did his best to block it out. Irritatingly, the boy was practically broadcasting his emotions over the force, and blocking it out required entirely too much concentration. It was not a skill Vader had reason to use often.

"My Lord?" One of the bridge officers said from near the comms. Vader turned to regard him. He man swallowed uneasily before continuing. "We have dropped out of hyperspace at Coruscant and the Emperor's palace is hailing us. He wishes to speak with you."

"Put the signal through to my private receiving room," Vader commanded as he turned to leave the room.

He knelt on the floor and waited within an few moments and image appeared above him. The Emperor's withered face looked down at him.

"What is your bidding, my master?"

"I see you have a present for me, Lord Vader," the Emperor said carefully.

"Yes, my master."

"Are you certain the boy is your son?"

"I am certain, my master. The doctors have confirmed it."

"Strange, that he was hidden from you for so long, and only now have you found him."

"The force led me to him, my master."

"Lord Vader," Palpatine said, his voice suddenly hard. "Are you aware that there must only be two Sith? That this is as it has been since the wars? What do you propose we do with this boy?"

"I believe he should be trained to follow you, my master. He is very powerful, he could be useful."

"Indeed," The Emperor seemed to consider this for a moment. "Bring the boy before me and I will judge his potential. If he is not powerful enough to merit the effort, he will be killed, is this understood, Lord Vader?"

"Yes, my master," Vader responded bowing his head, as the transmission ended.

* * *

Luke looked up from the bed as the previously locked door opened, reveling The black-armored man. He dried his tears as quickly as he could and tried to scramble into a sitting position. The man (his father?), just stood and watched him. Luke could hear the man's forced breathing echoing through the room. He swallowed and forced himself to speak, instantly terrified.

"W-what do you want?"

"You are to come with me." The deep voice and dark figure was the stuff of nightmares, but Luke didn't feel as scared as he thought he should. Maybe he'd just been scared so much lately he was running out of fear.

"Where?" he asked. Oddly, he suddenly felt proud that his voice had stopped shaking.

"To the planet below, Coruscant. You are to be taken before the Emperor."

Luke's eyes went wide with shock. _Coruscant?__ The Emperor? _It was too much. It didn't make any sense.

"Why?" he asked, his voice shaking again.

"Enough Questions. The Emperor will answer any you might have, if he deems them pertinent. Now, come with me," He seemed to wait for a moment, as if making a choice. "My son."

* * *

Okay, I took all this time to write it, and you took all this time to read it, now do me a favor, and fill out a review, please.

Another Author Question: Does anyone know who much older then Luke, Biggs is suppose to be?


	3. Dreams Edited

**Edited 5/23/2005**: Not many changes here aside from grammar/spelling/formatting. The next chapter will have an entire section re-written though, so that might take me slightly longer.

**Author's Notes**: A lot more was suppose to happen in this chapter, but it got so long, and took so long to write, that I've had to leave some of the action for the next chapter. I hate it when my stories feel rushed. Looks like this is going to be a good deal longer then I had originally planned.

I'm rather worried that Palpatine is going to come across as a bit corny, but I guess there are only so many ways you can write the Emperor and still have him in character.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you're all awesome.

As for Kenobi rescuing Luke: Yeah, that does seem to happen a lot in this sort of story. I think that's overused. Don't worry, this will be different.

Never underestimate Darth Vader's inability to use contractions.

* * *

**Broken Wings**

**Chapter Three**

Luke walked through the halls of the Imperial Palace next to the foreboding form of Darth Vader, his... father. Everything he had see and learned since awakening was incredible, almost beyond belief for a poor Tatooine farm-boy, but somehow, he didn't feel amazed. He was terrified. Something about this place just felt wrong, as if there was some horrible, near tangible, miasma of darkness touching everything.

The shuttle ride had been unpleasant. He'd wanted to get a chance to ride in a real spaceship for most of his life, but with Darth Vader seated next to him, and painful memories echoing in his mind it was less enjoyable then he had imagined. Vader himself had told him only a few things. Luke was Vader's son, and he had been hidden from his father and the Emperor by someone named Obi-Wan because of something called "the force". Luke hadn't understood that particular part of the explanation, and Vader had said that the Emperor would "enlighten" him, whatever that meant.

As unpleasant as the shuttle ride had been, the palace itself was much worse. They had landed on a private platform, where Luke had gotten his first real glimpse of Coruscant. It was amazing, almost beyond comprehension. Buildings loomed in the distance towering taller then he would have thought possible, and all the while thousands of ships, speeders and other transports zoomed every which way. The city seemed to be constantly moving, all except for the area surrounding the palace, and that was deathly still.

Vader had guided him into the building itself where a group of red-cloaked guards waited to escort them. The palace itself was an amazing structure of marble columns and massive windows with hallways and open areas so massive that Luke could have sworn the entire town of Anchorhead could have fit inside.

The palace was far from empty, though still eerily quiet. People moved with careful steps, and conversations were hushed. The servants scurried with downcast eyes and even the movements of droids seemed strangely hushed. Other people, in fine clothing, talked in small groups, some of them looked arrogant, most just looked nervous. Their conversations came to a halt as Vader approached.

Eyes followed Luke as he walked and he suddenly felt the bizarre urge to grad Vader's gloved hand. A little girl in a white dress with brown hair in braids caught Luke's gaze. She gripped the clothing of the dark-haired man who stood next to her and watched as they passed. Just before Luke stepped out of sight she seemed to mouth "good luck", but it might just have been his imagination.

Darth Vader came to a halt in front of a pair of huge, engraved doors. The guards, frightening figures in red robes carrying staves, moved to flank the entrance. It was clear they weren't going inside.

"Enter," a harsh voice said from within. As soon as the word was spoken, the doors swung open. Vader began to move forward and Luke followed, afraid of being left behind.

"How did he know we were there?" Luke whispered as they crossed the threshold. Vader didn't answer.

The room was huge, but remarkably simple compared to rest of the palace. Windows stretched several stores high just beyond a platform with a chair on it. A figure sat in the chair, stooped inside a black cloak. It feel wrong to Luke. Whatever that thing was, it was evil. He could almost feel the darkness stretching out from it. He wanted to run away, but he was too frightened.

Vader approached and then dropped to one knee, bowing his head. Luke just stood and stared at the thing on the throne.

"Well, Boy?" The Emperor said rising from his seat. His voice made Luke think of metal being dragged across stone. "Kneel before your new master." When Luke just stood there, defiantly, he cackled. "A fascinating specimen, you've brought me, Lord Vader." He sounded amused. "You should have taught him better manners."

"Yes, my master." Vader said, not rising.

The Emperor approached Luke slowly, pulling the cowl back from his features. His face looked wasted, the skin looked papery, and his eyes seemed to hold an odd yellowish tint.

Luke stepped backwards involuntarily as the Emperor drew closer. The Emperor regarded Luke for a moment before speaking, his voice oddly soft. "My appearance disturbs you, does it? The price of power, I am afraid. I will show you. Now kneel!"

Luke felt something press down on his shoulders, dropping him painfully to the floor. He felt the impact in his knees. He tried to stand back up but found he could not. Luke got a glimpse of Vader getting to his feet before his nose was almost pushed into the floor.

"You were right about the boy, Lord Vader. He will be very powerful, when he is properly trained, of course." The Emperor's robes were now so close to Luke, that he could see the rough material from which they were made. Underneath mounting terror, some part of Luke noticed that they looked like something he would have expected to see back home on Tatooine, not here, in the heart of the Empire.

Home...

_Aunt Beru! Uncle Owen!_

"I will see to his training, my master." Vader said, from out of Luke's line of sight.

"No," the Emperor sounded thoughtful now. "At least, not at first." He turned to address Luke. "Stand up, Boy!"

Luke felt the pressure from his shoulders ease and he scrambled to his feet. The Emperor watched him, grinning unpleasantly. "Well, Boy? What do you say?" Luke stared back, angrily. He didn't understand what was going on, but some part of him knew not to do what this old monster said.

The Emperor laughed again. "He is stubborn, Lord Vader. He will be difficult to break."

Luke barely had time to wonder why the Emperor sounded so pleased before a bolt of blue lightening struck him in the chest, knocking him back to the floor. Luke felt the most horrible pain he had ever experienced lancing through his body. He jerked under the power of the lightening. He felt himself screaming. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the torture stopped.

Luke looked past the Emperor to his father. Why wasn't he helping him? Why didn't Vader try to him stop the Emperor?

"Do you expect your father to help you? He is mine, my young apprentice, as are you now."

Luke felt his anger surge up to replace his fear and confusion. He wanted to hurt this monster.

"It was good you brought him to me, Lord Vader. See how he reaches for the darkside? He will be very useful." The Emperor crouched down next to Luke. He grabbed Luke's hair and pulled back his head, drawing closer until he was only a few inches from Luke's face. "Most useful indeed."

* * *

_"Hey guys, look up there!" He squinted against the harsh sunlight at his newest discovery, high up on the cliff face. "I think I see something!" His best friend moved closer to get a better look._

_"I don't see anything." Biggs gazed up at the cliff side._

_"No, it's there just give it a second." Something up on the cliff shifted. "See! Hey, Coric, Tullen, Brake! Look what I found!"_

_"Looks like some kind of bird." Biggs backed away from the cliff slightly. "I dunno, Luke. Might be dangerous. It is kinda big."_

_"What do you have there, Luke?" Brake was the first to arrive, Tullen and Coric followed soon after._

_"Some kind of lizard?"__ Coric asked, squinting._

_"No, it has wings." Tullen said, trying to get a better look by climbing onto a rock._

_"It still looks like a lizard, a winged lizard. Leave it alone, Luke." Coric turned away, and began to go back to the speeder._

_"Yeah, Coric's right, leave it alone." Tullen said as he jumped off the rock and went to follow Coric._

_"Come on Coric, give me a boost. I wanna see what it is!" Luke called, already looking for hand holds._

_"No, you'll hurt yourself."_

_"Please."_

_"No."_

_"Please!"_

_"No!"_

_Luke sighed. "How about you, Brake?"_

_"I dunno, Luke," the awkward teenage said, looking uneasy._

_"You'd better not, Luke, he'll drop you," Biggs said, snickering._

_Brake shot him a nasty glare. "Okay, come here, I'll help you."_

_"Thanks!" Luke said as Brake held out his hands for him to step on._

_"What do you see up there, Luke?" Biggs called._

_"It's a bird, an ugly bird. Looks like it's just a baby. There are all sorts of broken eggshells up here, and it looks like a nest."_

_"Luke, you'd better get back down here. What if the mother comes back?"_

_"Just a second, I wanna get a closer look."_

_"Luke! Be careful! That rock doesn't look stable."_

_"I just wanna get a little closer." The rock beneath his foot gave way, dropping him to the hard stone below._

_"Ow."_

_"Luke! You okay?"_

_He looked at his friends, all surrounding him with fear in their eyes, and grinned. "I'm fine. You guys should have seen that thing! It was so weird. Do you think it comes from off-planet?"_

_Biggs just looked at him in shock. "Are you sure you're okay?"_

_"Yup, I'm fine," he said, jumping up to demonstrate._

_"Jeez, Luke, you must be the luckiest person I've even met. That fall could have killed you."_

_"It wasn't so bad."_

_Biggs laughed. "Don't you have any common sense at all?"_

_

* * *

_

_"Hey, Uncle Lars?__ What're you doing?"_

_"I'm fixing the vaporators… trying to fix the vaporators."_

_"Can I help?"_

_"No, you wouldn't know what to do."_

_"Can you teach me?"_

_"Not now, Luke, I'm busy."_

_"Please Uncle Lars, I can help, I really can."_

_"No, not now."_

_"Please"_

_"Oh all right, come here. The problem with fixing vaporators it that there are all kinds things that can go wrong with them. Sometimes I spend more time trying to find the problem then I do fixing it._

_"Now, you see these tubes? No, Luke, don't touch them, they're hot right now."_

_"Okay."_

_"The most common problem is when the heat makes the tubing shift out of alignment..._

_

* * *

_

He awakened from a disturbed sleep to the pitch blackness of his quarters. He remained still for a moment, trying to remember what his dreams had been. One stood out clearly; his first trip to Coruscant, and his first meeting with the Emperor. He had thought he had stopped having that nightmare. There had been so many other worse ones to replace it. The first meeting had likely been one of his least painful encounters with the Emperor, yet for some reason it stayed in his mind and haunted his nightmares.

The others dreams were less clear; abstract terrors and vague memories of Tatooine. He tried to remember more of his dreams of home, but found he could not. All he had from those dreams were vague pleasant feelings. He tried to hold on to that for as long as he could.

When even the shadows of the dreams had faded away, he shifted out of his bed, feeling his muscles protest. He and his father had been practicing lightsaber combat the day before. It seemed that no matter how much he practiced and improved, his father was always one step ahead of him, and he was not inclined to take these things easily. The previous session had been particularly bad.

Nevertheless, he still preferred the lessons his father taught to the ones he received from the Emperor. He shuddered, reminding himself the Palpatine was on Coruscant, and he was here, on the Devastator, hopefully as far away from the galactic core as possible.

The last time he had seem the Emperor had been just before he and Vader had left Coruscant on this most recent mission. If anything the Emperor had looked even more wasted then before. Palpatine had all but ignored him while giving his father instructions, only to announce, just before dismissing them, that his training was coming to end, and he would soon be given the title of "Darth", and a new name.

The news, which should have brought him, at the very least, relief, had only disturbed him. His name was one of the few things he had kept with him. Even though no one ever called him by it, it still held some meaning to him. To Vader he was "My Son", to the Emperor he was "My Apprentice", or sometimes just "Boy". The imperial officers called him "My Lord", or "Vader's lapdog" when they thought he couldn't hear them. To the rebels he was... as far as he knew, any rebels who had gotten close enough to him to even know he existed, were dead. Perhaps the spies in the imperial senate or noble houses had reported his existence, the same spies that they had been sent to intercept.

No, he had no doubt that the rebellion had heard of his existence. He had attended enough imperial functions to be seen by people suspected of being spies. If they knew about him, did they know he was Vader's son? Even the crew of the Devastator seem uncertain whether the designation signaled an actual blood relationship, or if it was some sort of "Sith thing".

Few people knew his name, and no one but the Emperor and his father knew he was a Skywalker. But to himself he was still Luke, as much as he was anything else. Why, he wondered, did such a small thing bother him so much?

He stood from the bed and walked to the windows, the near total absence of light not hampering his movement at all. He often kept his quarters in darkness, it felt appropriate.

Outside he could see the wreckage of a recent battle. He had been asleep, the death cries of those lost in combat hadn't disturbed him, he was used to them.

No more then a couple of years ago he would have been excited about the prospect of battle, more then ready to take his own TIE advanced out into the fray. Now even piloting held little interest for him. He was tired, listless, he slept often when he did not have other assignments.

He watched imperial salvage crews sift through the remains, though what they hoped to find amidst this wreckage was beyond him.

He felt a mental nudge - his father was calling him. The summons wasn't urgent, he had time to change. He ordered his quarters, glancing momentarily at the tray of uneaten food, before deciding to ignore it.

As he entered the fresher the light automatically came on and he caught a brief glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. He winced, turning away. Years spent almost exclusively on star destroyers had left his skin pale. Sandy blond hair fell into pained blue eyes. The scars on his chest was a mementos from some of Palpatine's lessons.

"Twisted old sadist." he muttered to himself, and then quickly banished the thoughts from his mind. Neither Vader nor the Emperor were likely to be able to read his thoughts just then, but old habits died hard. He knew he wasn't capable of hiding his thoughts from either of them. He strongly suspected that part of his education had been intentionally neglected.

He bathed and dressed. As always his clothing was black, tunic, pants, boots, gloves, and cloak. He rarely wore any other color, except when the Emperor sent him on assignments that required subtlety. Luke hated being ordered to act as an assassin, but the Emperor seemed only too willing to take advantage of having a both force-sensitive, and relatively unknown operative at his disposable.

He felt another call from his father, this one a little stronger. He pulled the cowl of his cloak up over his face. He took his lightsaber from the table next to the door, holding it in his hands for a moment, remembering when his father had brought him the corsuca gem and told him it was time to construct a lightsaber. He had been twelve, he had practically worshiped his father then, and he had been overjoyed. Over the years his feelings for the man that had taken him away from his home, that had ordered the deaths of his aunt and uncle, had changed. But than he had changed, he was no longer a frightened child trying to hold on to whatever stability his suddenly overturned life offered.

He clipped the weapon to his belt and walked out the door.

The crew of the Devastator gave him a wide berth as he strode through its halls. He had long since become used to the fear that imperial officers had for him. Sometimes it seemed as strong as the fear they held for his father. Perhaps because he was a relative unknown. People certainly seemed to fear that which they did not understand. While those who displeased Vader met sudden and public deaths, the few that had seriously displeased him, only a few years before, had met quiet, mysterious deaths. Though he hadn't been responsible for all of them, those deaths somehow made the officers more fearful of him then if he had simply taken a page out of his father's book and strangled the men in public.

When he was younger he had felt a strange malicious glee at such times, a release from ever present pain and anger. It was childish cruelty, a boy torturing an insect. Now he felt... it wasn't guilt, those men's lives had meant nothing to him, they had deserved far worse then he had given them. The emotion was something else.

He did not mourn for the dead, he had long since become accustomed to death.

Would he mourn for his father? The question was odd, seemingly coming out of nowhere, but the answer was obvious.

Yes, he would. He would morn him and no one else.

His father had never been anything even approaching loving, he was hard and strict, but never cruel, not to Luke at any rate. At times he had seemed almost protective, but Luke was willing to discount that as a product his own imagination. Vader had, after all, only stood by and watched as the Emperor... memories of blue lightening filled his mind.

He cleared his thoughts as he entered the bridge, sensing Vader's familiar presence. His father was prowling next to the main view screen. The some of the imperial officers looked up, before quickly averting their eyes. Luke didn't need the force to feel their unease at his presence. He could feel some of their thoughts. _Being in the same room with one is bad enough, but both?_ He almost laughed.

He felt his father reach out and search his mind.

_After all this time you still don't trust me, Father?_ He asked through the force. Vader didn't answer.

"Well Captain?" Vader asked, once Luke stood at his side, "Make your report."

The captain almost squirmed under Vader's gaze. Luke didn't blame him, he could feel his father's displeasure. The captain drew a slow breath. "Yes, Lord Vader. We came upon the rebel forces at approximately 0600 hours. We destroyed their escort with minimal losses, but the main ship eluded us. It jumped to hyperspace soon after the battle began."

"You mean they escaped, Captain." Vader said, looming over the now clearly terrified officer.

"Why wasn't the tractor beam used?" Luke asked, he didn't know why they were bothering. He already knew how this was going to end.

"There-there wasn't time," the captain stuttered.

"In other words, it didn't occur to you," Luke said, feeling confirming fear from the captain.

"You have failed me," Vader said, stepping forward. The captain blanched.

_Deal with him. _

Luke heard his father's mental voice. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. This was certainly new. Was it a test? He didn't want to kill the captain. Was Vader testing his loyalty? He lifted his hand and closed his eyes, opening himself to ever present anger; anger at the Empire for the loss of his aunt and uncle, anger at the Emperor for his pain, at the rebellion for drawing out the war. He felt the force surge up to meet him. Now, he wanted to kill the captain.

He reached out with the force. He could force-strangle the man, like his father would have done. No, he didn't want to feel the man die slowly. Instead he reached out with the force and snapped his neck.

A loud crack resounded off the walls, and the captain collapsed.

He lowered his arm slowly. He opened his eyes and made himself stare emotionlessly at the corpse as guards came to drag it away. He felt neither approval nor disapproval from his father. Had it been a test? Had he passed?

Luke watched as his father appointed Commander Turres as the new captain. The man seemed more nervous than pleased at the promotion.

"Come with me," Vader said to Luke as he turned to leave the bridge. Luke followed, wanting to ask his father about their mission, suddenly curious, but he knew that Vader would tell him what he decided he should know and nothing more. He was not inclined towards answering questions.

"We have received intelligence that a ship bearing the stolen plans will be meeting with a group of rebel fighters. We will be waiting for the rebel escort. I will need you to interrogate some of the prisoners."

"Yes, Father." Luke answered calmly as he winced inside. His father knew how much he disliked interrogations. Another test?

"Afterwords, we are to report to the Death Star. We will continue your training there."

"The Death Star? Tarkin's pet project?" Luke looked towards his father as they continued through the halls, he sensed some trace of his father's emotions through whatever technique Vader used to shield his thoughts. "You don't approve; of Tarkin, the Death Star, or both?"

"My personal feelings on then matter are not relevant. Nor," He said, turning to Luke and raising a finger. "Should yours be. Is that understood?"

"Yes Father," Luke replied. The moment the words left his mouth he felt an odd shimmer through the force, it felt something like a premonition. Vader appeared not to have noticed.


	4. Trap

Author's Notes: Well, this is now officially my most reviewed story ever. On a side note, darn you Fanfiction.net. Why is my italicized text no longer italicized?  
  
Thanks to Griffin Turboclaw for the link, it has been very useful, and to Shezan for your offer. I would be very thankful to anyone who would alert me to any spelling or grammar mistakes I have made.  
  
Sorry it took me so long to post this.  
  
Broken Wings Chapter Four  
  
Biggs Darklighter walked through the hallways of the rebel facility on Dantooine favoring his left leg slightly. Every where he turned equipment was being disassembled, troops were being loaded into transports and Alliance leaders were giving last minute instructions. His own squadron was being sent out in less than two hours, but he hoped to grab some breakfast in what was left of the mess hall before setting out.  
  
He stepped through the doorway, narrowly avoiding a group of workers carrying some boxes. Long tables filled the large space, it looked as though most were going to be abandoned. Biggs glanced around before spotting what he was looking for. His five closest friends sat around one of the tables. He stopped to watch them for a moment, memories of childhood coming back to him.  
  
Brake sat closest to the door, the rank insignia on his pilots uniform identifying him as a squadron leader. He had certainly matured from the awkward teenager Biggs so clearly remembered. Brake had already been a well established pilot when he had arrived, well known for both his skill in flying and his charisma. It had been Brake who had sought out the rebellion first, and who had helped the rest of them to join.  
  
Every last one of Luke's closest friends sat around that table, Biggs realized with a twinge of pain. Memories of the his best friend, and the day he was taken from them had etched themselves across his mind. He remembered it every time his leg troubled him, every time he looked at Jarru's crooked nose, and every time he heard of another imperial atrocity. It was because of those memories, because of Luke that he had joined the rebellion. He was certain the same was true for all of his companions as well.  
  
Luke was dead, he had to be. The old Jedi had told them that Luke's father had been a Jedi himself. It seemed that the Empire included children in its purge.  
  
It was a strange feeling. Luke, the boy he had grown up with was the son of a Jedi, hunted by the Empire; Luke who played practical jokes and raced speeders with him, who always seemed to know when a sandstorm was coming, who seemed to know what was wrong with a broken piece of electronics before he even got his hands on it, who had somehow thrown four full grown stormtroopers to the ground...  
  
He could almost imagine him, sitting there, laughing with the others, but thanks to the Empire, Luke would never laugh again.  
  
"Hey, Biggs, what are you standing around for? Come over here and sit down!" he heard Coric call. Biggs forced feelings of sadness away. Today he was with his friends. He didn't know when he'd see some of them again, best to enjoy the time they had. As he came forward to sit down he looked around the table.  
  
Coric, Jarru, and Brake wore their pilot's uniforms. Coric hadn't changed at all, still the stubborn, good natured giant he had always been, even if he had gained at least half a foot in height. Jarru sat with her boots on the table, ignoring Tinker's annoyed looks at her lack of manners. She had gone from short and stocky, to fairly tall and unusually muscular. While no one would ever call her beautiful, and even pretty might have been a bit of a stretch, she certainly manged striking. Tinker wore a mechanic's uniform. Tinker was... well, Tinker. Apparently, somewhere in the last few years he had decided to stop cutting his hair and now in fell past his shoulders in unruly strands. The many pockets of his overalls bulged with assorted odds and ends, mostly electronic, ranging from the common place to the completely incomprehensible. Both his face and clothing were adorned with their usual collection of oil smears.  
  
Biggs had been certain that Jarru would chose to become a mechanic as well, machines had always been her first love, and he doubted that she would want to be separated from Tinker, but he also understood that she needed a more direct form of revenge against the Empire. Everything, the war, the rebellion, seemed so much more real when you were actually out there, fighting.  
  
Tullen was the only one wearing civilian clothing. He sat examining a data pad. As Biggs sat down Tullen gave him a mysterious smile. No one was one hundred percent certain what the Alliance leaders had Tullen doing, but most of them were convinced he was a spy. It was believable, Tullen had always been able to lie better the anyone else Biggs knew, and he his features were so completely unremarkable he could pass for any age between sixteen and thirty with a little effort.  
  
"Ah, yes," Brake said, gesturing towards Biggs, eyes sparkling with humor. "Here we have the flying ace of Dune Squadron. Take a bow, Biggs, that was pretty impressive maneuvering at that last raid."  
  
Cheers welled up from around the table, and Coric clapped him on the back, hard. Once Biggs had recovered, Jarru grinned at him saying, "They're sure to promote you now. Come on Lieutenant, think of it, your own squadron."  
  
He laughed. "No thanks, don't want it. I'd have to leave Dune Squad." He looked down at his stomach pointedly. "Besides right now, the only thing I want is something to eat."  
  
"Then you should have gotten up earlier." Tinker said, brushing a strand of hair out of his face and only seceding in smearing some oil across his cheek.  
  
Jarru looked at him in disgust. "Tinker, do us all a favor, take a bath."  
  
"Don't worry," Coric said, trying to speak over what looked like it was devolving into a full blown fight ("I just bathed recently!", "When, last year?"), or would have if everyone hadn't known Tinker and Jarru too well to think they were actually mad at each other. "We saved you some." he said as he pushed a plate full of food across the table.  
  
"Thanks," Biggs said, catching the dish. "Any word on where we're being transferred to?"  
  
"No, and you won't find out until you've completed your next assignment." Tullen commented, not looking up from his data pad.  
  
A chorus of groans from Biggs, Brake, and Coric pulled Jarru's attention away from the fight. "Eh, what?"  
  
"I hate it when he knows these things before we do." Brake grumbled.  
  
"We've got another mission." Biggs told her.  
  
"Already? They haven't even fixed the scorch marks on my X-Wing yet!" she protested.  
  
"Got to it first thing this morning, while you were still snoring." Tinker said.  
  
Jarru shot him a nasty look. "I do not snore." She turned to Tullen. "What assignment?"  
  
"You are to escort a ship to the new command facility."  
  
Brake snorted. "How are we supposed to escort it if we don't know where the new facility is?"  
  
"One of the passengers will give you the coordinates." Tullen informed them, putting the datapad down on the table, screen side down, Biggs noted.  
  
"Who is this passenger?" Jarru asked leaning over table.  
  
"That is confidential."  
  
"You don't know, do you?" she said with a smirk.  
  
Tullen started to protest but Biggs cut him off. "What I want to know is why all the secrecy? And why, all of a sudden are we just packing up and leaving?"  
  
Tullen pointedly turned away from Jarru, who was still smirking at him, and began to inspect his datapad once again. "We have reason to believe that our security has been compromised."  
  
"Okay, I'll give you that, with all the surprise attacks the empire had been throwing at us lately" Brake said. "What I want to know is, why Dune Squadron?"  
  
"Since most of the members of Dune Squadron come from Tatooine..." Tullen began.  
  
"Hence the name 'Dune Squadron'" Tinker said interrupting him.  
  
"And most of the other members come from other rim worlds, with the only exception of Shanbara, who is clearly trustworthy for other reasons." Tullen continued, ignoring Tinker. "It was judged the least likely to be involved in the security leak."  
  
"You mean the least likely to be spies." Brake said.  
  
"Well I'm flattered," Jarru said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "'Cause you know, some of us pilots, who risk our lives for the Alliance on a regular basis, just might be working for the Empire, but I'm so glad that you just happen to trust us, in particular, enough to think that we might not be spies."  
  
"Don't be flattered yet, Jarru," Biggs said. "If they really though we weren't spies, they'd have told us where the new installation is."  
  
"Actually, that's not the reason you weren't told," Tullen said, looking abashed.  
  
"Oh, well that's just great. They trust us enough to send us on a mission where they think there's a good chance we might be captured."  
  
"I have just one question," Biggs said, raising his fork for emphasis.  
  
"What's that?" Tullen asked.  
  
Biggs gestured towards the food on his plate. "What the heck is this made of?"  
  
"I thought by now you'd know not to ask."  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Destiny must have a fairly warped sense of humor, Obi-Wan Kenobi reflected, as he watched rebel mechanics prepare a ship for him.  
  
After arriving on Dagobah, Kenobi had spoken only briefly with master Yoda. The old master had been pained by the news of Luke's capture, but told Obi- Wan that the future was always in motion, and there was still hope for the boy. There was always hope. Yoda had advised him to seek out the girl, and begin her training as soon as was safe.  
  
For six years he had searched the Galaxy for Luke's twin sister. He had returned to Naboo, a difficult feat In and of itself as the planet was under martial law, thanks to the Empire, only to find that Anu had died three years previous and the only thing her remaining family knew was that she had taken up with a cargo ship captain sometime earlier. Her nephew had given Kenobi the man's name, but he hadn't known anything more.  
  
It proved remarkably difficult to find a single cargo ship when the only thing he had to go on was the captain's name. When he did finally locate the ship, discovered that its Captain Kresin had been executed by the imperials for shipping cargo to the rebellion, and the new captain didn't know anything about him. Several years of painful research turned up the information that Kresin had a brother who owned a small business on Corellia.  
  
The captain's brother turned out to be an unpleasant man named Nruud, who, as far as Obi-Wan could tell, not only knew nothing of any interest, or relevance, but only seemed concerned with his storage business.  
  
The old Jedi was about to dismiss the man as a dead end, when Nruud let slip something that was too unlikely to be a coincidence. Kresin had known Bail Organa.  
  
He had taken the next transport to Alderaan.  
  
It proved somewhat difficult to get a chance to speak with the prince. He didn't dare risk mentioning his name for fear that it would be leaked back to the Empire. He had no illusions about what Vader would do if he found out his former master was still alive.  
  
He had finally managed to get in to see Bail by using his Jedi powers, something he had been hoping not to have to resort to.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
3 years earlier  
  
Bail was sitting behind his desk, staring at a number of datapads. "I said I don't want to disturbed." He said without looking up. It was clear to Kenobi that the years had weighed heavily on Bail. Once brown hair was now heavily streaked with gray and worry lines his is face.  
  
"Really? You would not even make an exception for an old friend?" Obi-Wan asked walking up to Bail's desk.  
  
Bail looked up from his work, his eyes filled with amazement. "Obi-Wan? Is that really you?" When the old Jedi only nodded, he jumped up from his seat and embraced his old friend. "I thought you had exiled yourself to Tatooine. Why have you come here? You're in danger. If the Empire finds out..."  
  
Obi-Wan held up his hand to quiet Bail. "I am here because of a situation of the gravest urgency, but I'm not even certain you can help me."  
  
Bail gestured towards one of the chairs in front of his desk before seating himself. "I'll do what ever I can, you know that."  
  
"Did you know a woman named Anu? She once served as a handmaiden for Queen Amidala of Naboo," Obi-Wan asked as he settled into a chair.  
  
"Yes," Bail said cautiously. "We met, once. Why, Obi-Wan? What is this about?"  
  
"Did she have an child with her? A little girl.?"  
  
"Yes, she did," Bail sounded oddly resigned. "Why is this so important, Obi-Wan?"  
  
"Please Bail, if you know where she is you must tell me."  
  
"I can tell you where she is. My daughter, Princess Leia Organa, has just been elected the new senator for Alderaan, and is right now on her way to Coruscant," Bail said, as he stood up and walked over to a tray holding brandy. He poured two small glasses.  
  
Obi-Wan let out a slow breath and leaned back into the chair. "This complicates matters."  
  
"Obi-Wan, tell me what this has to do with my daughter," Bail handed on of the glasses to Obi-Wan before settling back in his chair.  
  
"What did Anu tell you?" Obi-an asked, swirling the liquid around in the glass, but not drinking.  
  
"Not very much, that the girl was an orphan and she needed someone to take care of her, and there was a chance that she would be in danger."  
  
"So you agreed to take her in?"  
  
"Of course, how could I refuse? It was just after the earthquakes had devastated the city of Arast. It was horrible, there were so many children left without families. As far as the public was concerned Leia was one of the orphans of that disaster." Bail leaned over his desk. "Please Obi- Wan, tell me what this is about."  
  
"Did you know my former apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, before... before he turned?"  
  
"Yes, I met him on a number of occasions," Bail said, stiffening.  
  
"What no one knew is that he was married in secret, and against the Jedi code, to Senator Padmé Amidala. Bail, Leia is their daughter."  
  
Bail put his head into his hands and remained quiet for a moment. "I always knew that she was somehow important, but I never expected this," he said, his voice full of pained emotion. "She's his daughter? Vader's daughter?"  
  
"Anakin's daughter," Obi-Wan gently corrected. Bail downed the contents of his glass in one gulp. "There is more, Leia had, has a twin brother, Luke. I took him to Tatooine, to be raised by some of his relatives. Vader found him nearly six years ago."  
  
"The boy's probably already dead."  
  
"No, he's still alive, I can sense that much. I fear that Vader and the Emperor are training him as a Sith. Luke is powerful, very powerful, possibly stronger than his father. Leia must be brought back and trained as a Jedi. Our only hope is that she turns out to be equally strong in the force."  
  
"No."  
  
"Bail, for the sake of the galaxy, she must be trained!" Obi-Wan said, placing his still full glass down on the desk and standing.  
  
"Obi-Wan, I've already told you, Leia was just recently elected senator of Alderaan. She is the youngest senator ever accepted. The media is all over it. What do you think would happen is she were to be suddenly called back home? Do you think she would even come? She's wanted to get into politics since she was old enough to know what the word means."  
  
"How long until her term expires?" Obi-Wan asked. He realized that it would not be wise to give the Emperor or Vader any reason for suspicion. Leia would by now be past the age where she would reach for the force out of instinct. He could only hope and pray that neither Vader, nor the Emperor would notice her potential.  
  
"Just over four years."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. Four years to wait until he could begin the girl's training, nothing was going as he had hoped.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Bail was still a part of the rebellion, a leader in fact, with many rebel contacts, which brought Obi-Wan to his current position; adviser to the rebellion, trainer of troops, and special operative. The rebellion had been only too happy to accept him into their numbers, reinstating his former rank of general.  
  
Now, three years into her term, the princess had chosen to leave Coruscant. She was on her way to the new facility at Yavin 4, baring what plans for the Empires newest space station. Obi-Wan intended to be there when she arrived.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Biggs checked the his X-Wing's scopes one last time before the jump to hyperspace. They had only just been given the coordinates where they were suppose to meet this transport.  
  
Earlier he had watched Tinker board a ship bound for the new facility. Jarru had stood by, tears in her eyes, not saying anything. Tullen had left on an unmarked civilian ship bound for who knows where just before they were ordered to their X-Wings.  
  
"Dune Leader, standing by," he heard Brake's voice over the comm.  
  
"Dune One, standing by," he said over his own comm.  
  
"Dune Two, standing by," came Coric's voice.  
  
"Dune Three, standing by." That was Jarru.  
  
A series of growls came over the comm, which from the little Wookiee that Biggs understood, could only mean "Dune Four, standing by." Their sole Wookiee pilot, Shanbara had just reported in.  
  
"Everyone initiate the jump to hyperspace on my mark." Brake said after the rest of Dune Squadron finished reporting in. "Mark."  
  
Biggs' X-Wing jumped to hyperspace along with the rest of Dune Squadron. The hyperspace trip was brief, they had only a short distance to travel.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Luke prowled the bridge of the Devastator. His father was in his meditation chamber, resting and healing. Luke was suppose to remain on the bridge and alert his father as soon as either of the rebel groups arrived.  
  
Over the last few days Luke had been feeling what he could only describe as vibrations through the force. His father hadn't appeared to notice anything and Luke hadn't mentioned it, but the feeling was making him jumpy and irritable.  
  
It felt like an impending sense of something coming. Something was going to happen soon, something very important.  
  
Luke stopped his pacing and stared out the main view screen. Something was about to happen, right... about... now.  
  
A squadron of rebel X-Wings dropped out of hyperspace directly in front of them. Two of fighters actually had to change course suddenly to avoid a collision. Luke could almost feel their shock. He smiled.  
  
He called out to his father though the force as he began to give orders. "Release the TIE fighters, and make certain the pilots know that they are only to disable as many of the ships as possible, do not destroy them if at all possible. Target their main hyperdrives and weapons, nothing else, and lock the tractor beam onto the leader."  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
The X-Wing squadron exited hyperspace as one, straight into the path of an oncoming Star Destroyer.  
  
Biggs didn't hear his squad mates' startled exclamations over his own swearing. He jerked back on his controls in order to avoid a head on collision with the destroyer. TIE fighters were beginning to swarm out of the destroyer's main hangar bay.  
  
"It's a trap!" he heard Brake call over the comm. "Everyone jump back into hyperspace as soon as your R2 units make the calculations. Do not, repeat, do not wait for anyone else. Someone has to find a way to tell command about this."  
  
"Roger that, Dune Leader," Biggs said as he told his R2 unit to begin hyperspace calculations. He swerved out of the way of some enemy fire and shot back, destroying a TIE fighter.  
  
"Damn it! They've got me in their tractor, I can't get free!" Brake yelled.  
  
"Hold on, Dune Leader, I'm on my way," Biggs turned his X-Wing to face the destroyer. He tried to target their tractor beam.  
  
"No! You can't damage it with your blasters, it's too heavily armored. Just get the hell out of here!" Brake yelled.  
  
"I've been hit! My engine's are dead!" Jarru screamed. A few moments later Shanbara growled something similar.  
  
Biggs pulled his X-Wing away as Brake's ship disappeared into the Star Destroyer's hangar bay. One of their X-Wings erupted into flame, followed by another.  
  
Biggs felt a sudden lurch and found himself moving backwards. "Oh hell..." he muttered to himself. "Coric! You're got the only functioning hyperdrive! Get out of here now!"  
  
"I don't want to abandon you!" Coric yelled back over the comm.  
  
"Coric this isn't the time to be stubborn! Just go!" Biggs yelled.  
  
"Alright, my R2 has just finished the calculations. Initiating hyperspace jump..."  
  
"Coric, look out!" Biggs heard Jarru yell. "You've got one on your tail!"  
  
A bright flash lit up the darkness as Coric's X-Wing was destroyed.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
On the bridge of the Devastator, Darth Vader entered to find his son clutching his head, a look of pain and confusion on his face.  
  
  
  
[Insert witty yet compelling plea for reviews here.] 


	5. Leia

I fixed it! Sorry about that. I must have selected the wrong file.  
  
Author's notes: Hello again. Wow, if you're reading this you've gotten pretty far. Thank you for having the patience to read all this.  
  
Since whenever I upload something to Fanfiction.net, the text I italicized is no longer italicized, I am now marking telekinesis with these two slashes. I.e. //Hello!//  
  
Well, this chapter practically wrote itself, once I got over an initial case of writers block. It's written entirely from Luke and Leia's points of view, which just made it more fun to write. Alright, maybe fun isn't quite the right word...  
  
Never the less, I present to you, the longest chapter yet (though not by much),  
  
  
  
Broken Wings Chapter Five  
  
  
  
Luke tried to shake off the strange feeling that he had just lost something important because of his own actions. The sudden pain he had felt was fast receding to an unpleasant dull ache. What had it been, and why did it feel so... familiar? He heard the bridge doors slide open and straightened as his father entered. The officers were clearly pretending not to have seen his little episode, but Vader would make no such pretenses.  
  
Something troubles you, my son? Vader asked as he walked towards Luke. He walked to main view screen to observe the last of the rebel X-Wings being pulled into the docking bay. "Report," he said to the new captain.  
  
I... it was nothing, an odd feeling through the force. A premonition perhaps, it is gone now. Luke replied as Turres began his report.  
  
"...have received a report from the stormtrooper team sent to pacify the rebel prisoners. They have met minimal resistance, and are certain that they will have the prisoners under control momentarily. What would you have done with them?" the captain asked, having concluded his report.  
  
"My apprentice will deal with with the prisoners," Vader replied as he walked to the front of the bridge. "Is there any sign of the transport?" he asked one of the bridge personnel.  
  
"Not yet, Lord Vader."  
  
Luke looked back at the captain's questioning expression. Clearly his father had decided he would have more important prisoners to interrogate once the aforementioned transport arrived. Which meant Luke would have to deal with the captured pilots. He really hated interrogations.  
  
"Have them thrown into a detention cell. I'll deal with them when I have time," he told the captain irritably.  
  
He walked to stand at his father's side in front of the main view screen. The personnel had certainly become subdued since his father's entrance, as if they did not want to draw attention to themselves. His father's mechanical breathing was the loudest sound in the room.  
  
Vader had never truly explained exactly what had lead to him receiving the injuries that forced him into the armored suit he wore, and Luke was certain that it was because of injuries. He had seen brief glimpses of his father without the helmet, and it was not a pleasant sight. The most Luke had learned was that it somehow involved a Jedi named Obi-Wan.  
  
Luke knew that his father had helped rid the galaxy of the Jedi order, a group diametrically opposed to the Sith. He knew little else of the Jedi, but he loathed them for what had been done to his father.  
  
He waited next to his father, trying to hide his impatience. Perhaps the transport had somehow been informed of the attack on the X-Wing squadron and was not going to show. It was not likely, they hadn't allowed any of the ships to escape, the only one that had manged to activate its hyperdrives had been destroyed on his orders.  
  
In fact, many of the ships had been destroyed, but he wrote it off as unavoidable. After all, they had manged to capture a good number of the pilots, including their leader.  
  
The dust colored planet just barely visible on the view screen looked weirdly familiar. Tatooine? No, that was impossible.  
  
"Sir, we have detected a ship exiting hyperspace directly in front of us," one of the helmsmen announced.  
  
The captain stepped forward to look at the view screen. "It looks like a rebel Blockade Runner."  
  
"According to our records the ship belongs to Senator Leia Organa of Alderaan," the helmsman said looking towards Darth Vader.  
  
"Intercept the ship immediately. The Death Star plans are there." Vader intoned. "Captain, have a boarding party prepared." He turned to Luke. "Come with me."  
  
Luke followed his father out into the Devastator's hallways, remaining a step behind. He tried to keep pace with Darth Vader's quick strides. Bits and pieces of his father's emotions flickered just out of perception behind his metal walls. Never the less, it was clear his father was eager to begin the assault.  
  
"Father," Luke said as they neared the main docking bay. "Who is this senator they say this ship belongs to?"  
  
"She is the Princess of Alderaan. She has long been suspected of being in league with the rebels. Now I am certain."  
  
"You were expecting this, her in particular, why?" Luke said.  
  
"Her ship passed directly through a restricted system. It was likely that they intercepted the rebel transmissions."  
  
"What will be done with her?" Luke asked, mildly curious. They had never taken someone as important as an imperial senator captive.  
  
"She will be interrogated and then executed for her involvement in the theft of the Death Star plans." Vader's voice held all the certainty of final judgment.  
  
"It may cause some stir in the senate if you simply execute her." It amused him that his father would treat someone as powerful as a senator exactly as he would treat any other captured rebel. Unfortunately the members of the senate were not likely to share that view.  
  
"Soon the senate will not longer be of any concern," Vader said as they entered the docking bay.  
  
What did that mean? Luke decided not to concern himself about it, his father would tell him if he ever needed. Besides, he reflected as he looked up at the massive blockade runner, he had more important things to worry about.  
  
A group of stormtroopers were placing what looked like explosives near the sealed airlock. They quickly backed away. The blast was small and isolated, but it tore a hole in the side of the ship. Stormtroopers swarmed inside though the newly formed entrance. Soon after, blaster shots rang out. It was clear these rebels were not going to go down easily.  
  
Luke began to step forward. His hands itched for his lightsaber. He wanted to step into the fight and cut a swath through these rebel weaklings, but his father's hand on his shoulder restrained him.  
  
//Do not risk your life needlessly, my son.//  
  
He wanted to join the fight! To tear the rebel weaklings apart.  
  
//It would not be a risk! They are nothing, they know nothing of the force...//  
  
//I have another task for you.//  
  
He tried to calm himself. A hesitation and then... //Yes, father.//  
  
When Darth Vader entered the rebel ship, Luke moved like a shadow at his side. His form cloaked in the power of the force, he slipped off into one of the sub corridors unnoticed by rebel or imperial.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Princess Leia Organa, Senator of Alderaan, braced herself against the wall as the ship was rocked by a massive blast. Sounds of blaster fire reached her and she knew she didn't have much time. She looked down at the little R2 unit in front of her she had just finished hiding the Death Star plans inside, and programming the droid. Now all she had to do was record her message, and hope that the Jedi master her father had told her of was still alive.  
  
She finished recording her message, and turned to the look around, to make certain she hadn't been seen. Her eyes slid across white walls and to the left there was... Nothing, there was no one here. She finished adjusting the settings on the droid's face. As soon as she was finished the R2 unit turned to join an approaching protocol droid. She watched for a moment, before turning into one of the corridors. It seemed so strange to place so much hope in such a little thing.  
  
She slipped through the hallways. She could hear the sounds of distant fighting; screams and blaster fire. As she crossed a small passage way, she noticed a group of stormtroopers approaching. She quickly ducked into an alcove as they sighted her.  
  
"There she is! Set for stun!" she heard one of the stormtroopers call out. She stepped out and quickly fired a shot, felling a trooper, as she raced for the opposite side of the hallway.  
  
She wasn't fast enough. She felt a painful shock as the stunbolt hit her, just before she fell unconscious.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
She wasn't certain how long she had been out, but it couldn't have been very long. As she awoke, the stormtroopers were just pulling her to her feet. She pulled away from them, feeling only slightly dizzy from having been knocked unconscious by a burst of energy. They must have had their weapons at a fairly low energy setting.  
  
The stormtroopers stood, apparently impassive, with their rifles trained on her.  
  
"Just come with us, Senator," one of them said with that weirdly artificial voice of his.  
  
She straightened her back and looked him in the eyes of his skull like white mask. She had no more time to run. She decided it was best to face capture with all of the regal dignity she had been taught from childhood.  
  
She inclined her head. "Then lead on," she said with all the courage she could muster.  
  
The stormtroopers seemed to relax with that. One of them stepped forward with a pair of binders. She gave him a look so imperious that he actually stepped back for a second, looking towards the one that had spoken to her earlier. When that one nodded, the one carrying the binders stepped behind her and bound her wrists together.  
  
She was hustled though the ship in quick order. They came to a hallway filled with the bodies of dead shipmen and she couldn't help but feel grief. These people had lost their lives for the rebellion, and for her. Next to the wall lay the motionless body of Captain Antilles, her friend and aid and before him...  
  
The dark, towering figure of Darth Vader seemed to take up more room then should have been physically possible. She put on an expression of anger and defiance just a felt the first real feeling of fear creep up on her.  
  
She looked up at Vader angrily. " Lord Vader," she said, injecting her voice with every bit of regal displeasure she possessed. "I should have known. Only you could be so bold. The Imperial Senate will not sit for this, when they hear you've attacked a diplomatic..."  
  
That voice had halted politicians in full spat, it had less than no effect on Darth Vader.  
  
"Don't play games with me, Your Highness. You weren't on any mercy mission this time." His voice injected the words "mercy mission" with more scorn than she would have thought possible.  
  
"You passed directly through a restricted system," he continued. "Several transmissions were beamed to this ship by Rebel spies. I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan..."  
  
"I have them.," a voice called from the corridor at her side. "She attempted to hide them in an astromech droid programmed to escape in a life pod."  
  
Leia turned to look at the speaker, shock etched all over her features. A black cloak covered the figure as he held out a black gloved hand towards Vader. Clutched in his fingers was a small datacard.  
  
Vader took the card, holding it in his own gloved and and examining it for a moment. "You were saying, your highness?" he asked turning back towards Leia. Vader seemed pleased, very pleased.  
  
For the first time in many years, Princess Leia was caught speechless.  
  
Vader turned to the black cloaked man. Seeing them standing, facing each other, Leia thought they looked like strangely formed mirror images of each other; Vader and Vader in miniature. And there, at the smaller man's belt hung a silvery metal cylinder.  
  
She had heard rumors at the senate and imperial court that Vader had taken some sort of student, and she had passed them on to the rebellion as just that, rumors, not really believing them herself.  
  
"Escort the princess to the detention facility," Vader ordered the cloaked man.  
  
The man inclined his head towards Vader before turning to her. "If you will come with me, Princess." His voice was youthful, but he walked with a grace and confidence she had seen only in the most skilled of athletes.  
  
She feel into step next to him, too shocked to protest. She tried to draw what was left of her regal dignity around her. He lead her towards the back of the hallway, past the bodies of her friends and comrades, and out the hole that the imperial stormtroopers had blasted in the side of the ship. They had all died for nothing. Their mission was a failure. She had failed the rebellion, and billions would suffer for it.  
  
The cloaked man lead her through the hangar into the Star Destroyer's hallways. Leia noticed that the imperials she saw seemed inclined to move to the opposite end of the corridors, or to simply cast fearful glances before returning to their tasks as they approached. Her companion seemed unfazed.  
  
She studied him out of the corner of her eye as they walked. He was small, not much taller then she was, but his build was compact. He was dressed entirely in black; simple pants, black elbow gloves and knee boots, a hight-necked, fitted shirt, and of course the hooded cloak that hid everything but his chin and mouth from view. What she could see of his skin was very pale.  
  
She suddenly realized that she couldn't hear the sounds of the stormtroopers' armor. She turned her head around and noticed that they were alone. There was no escort. The hallway they were walking through was completely deserted for the moment. Why had Vader only sent only one man to escort her, and what were her chances of overpowering him?  
  
"Princess," he said, his voice startling her from her thoughts. "If you are seriously considering attacking me because I am 'only one man', then you should know that I would advise against it." He turned his head towards her. "Besides, your hands are bound and I am armed."  
  
She openly stared at him. Had he... No, he had guessed, nothing more.  
  
His hood had fallen back slightly and she could see his face. His hair was pale. He was young, he couldn't have been much older than she was. And he was handsome, a part of her added. But his eyes... They were the same vivid blue as an arctic sea... and just as compassionate, she realized, suppressing a shudder. Those eyes also held pain unlike she had ever imagined. They almost made him look old, but no less handsome.  
  
She turned away from him, realizing that she was staring. She caught his expression out of the corner of her eye; he was amused, and pleased. They continued to walk in silence. Now he was inspecting her. She felt as if tiny needles were prickling her spine. There was something so familiar about him, like a half forgotten memory. Yet at the same time he was alien to her; he made her feel as if something, somewhere, had gone horribly wrong.  
  
She turned back towards him. He smiled, only slightly, and it didn't even begin to touch his eyes.  
  
"Yes, Princess?" he asked, calmly.  
  
"Who are you?" she blurted out, confused, as they stepped into a lift.  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked, clearly not expecting the question.  
  
Leia felt a small spark of unfocused anger inside of her. Whether it was at Vader, herself, or this confusing man-boy she saw before her, she didn't know.  
  
"Well," she said sharply. "Lets start with your name."  
  
"My name?" he repeated, as if he had never been asked the question before. Shock and confusion filled his eyes. For a moment his features softened, the coldness gone from his eyes, and Leia saw only a frightened youth, someone in pain. For a second she wanted to protect him.  
  
She forced the feeling away. This was one of the Emperor's lackeys, he didn't deserve her compassion.  
  
"You do have one, right?" she asked him, coldly.  
  
"My name," he began. He seemed to draw strength from somewhere as he continued. "My name is Luke." he finished. The words sounded strange on his lips, as if he had never spoken them before.  
  
Luke, she thought to herself, his name means light, how ironic. She glanced back up at his face, unsure of what she would see, but the moment was passed, and his eyes looked back, as cold as before.  
  
They stepped out of the lift. He continued to lead her through the Star Destroyer's corridors, his eyes now locked firmly ahead.  
  
"Vader," she began, unsure of what she wanted to ask. "Is Vader your teacher?"  
  
He didn't turn towards her. "Lord Vader," he said, emphasizing 'lord', "Is training me."  
  
"For what?" His answer shocked her, but she wasn't certain why. He still didn't turn to look at her, keeping his gaze locked always ahead.  
  
"To become a Sith."  
  
A Sith? That almost terrified her. What else could it have been, she asked herself, you saw the lightsaber at his belt. He certainly isn't a Jedi.  
  
"Why..." she began, but he cut her off by raising his hand. They had come to the door to the detention area.  
  
He lead her through the passageway. Inside two officers stood at a small computer terminal. One of them looked up, about to ask some kind of question. He almost began speaking, but cut off whatever he was going to say as soon as he glanced at Luke. His eyes shifted to Leia for a second, and then he nodded to Luke with a shaky, "My lord".  
  
Luke led her past the guards to the cell block. He stopped at a cell door and punched something into the terminal. The door slid open and he stood waiting, clearly expecting her to enter, but she didn't, not immediately.  
  
"Why would you want to become a Sith? Why would Vader..." she asked in a rush, before he cut her off.  
  
"Because he is my father." It wasn't clear which question he was answering, possibly both.  
  
"Your father!" she said, startled. That had not been the answer she was expecting. She didn't really know what answer she had been expecting, but that had been as far from it as she could imagine.  
  
"Don't sound so surprised, Princess," he said as he grasped her by the shoulder and pushed her into the cell, almost, but not quite, gently. "It's rude." His voice was harsh now.  
  
She whirled back around to face him as he raised his hand to the door controls. "I'd simply assumed that the son of Darth Vader would be taller." She saw a look of annoyance cross his face an instant before the door closed.  
  
It was a hollow victory.  
  
Vader had a son? It was unbelievable. That blond haired, blue eyed boy was Vader's offspring.  
  
She dropped onto a bench. It couldn't be. She had never even been truly certain that Vader was human, but it was possible.  
  
She looked to the door, wondering, no, hoping she would see this boy again.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Luke frowned at the closed door, desperately trying to control his emotions. He hadn't felt this confused in years.  
  
The princess was... confusing was the first word that came to mind, and irritating. With only a few words she had thrown him completely off balance.  
  
She was also beautiful.  
  
That thought confused him even more. For years he had repressed any physical or emotional need, such things simply hadn't effected him. So why did he feel so drawn to this child senator?  
  
She certainly hadn't been what he had expected. He had seen many senators, most of them old, irritating politicians, out for nothing more than credits to line their pockets.  
  
She was nothing like that. She lived for something, fought for something. Her thoughts had echoed with that conviction. She had a fire in her, a strength and fierceness that seemed almost alien to him.  
  
Her mind had been so easy to touch, almost incredibly easy. Her thoughts had reached him as if she was speaking them. He had never felt anything like that before.  
  
And she thought he was handsome.  
  
He drove that thought away as quickly as it occurred to him. She was going to die. For her crimes against the Empire, she was going to be executed. He couldn't even begin to fathom why that though bothered him so much.  
  
He briefly considered using his ability to hear her thoughts to get the location of the rebel base from her, but for some reason that didn't feel right. No, it felt horribly, horribly wrong.  
  
He turned away from her cell. Since he was here, might as well begin interrogating the rebel pilots. The sooner he began, the sooner he would be finished. He strode though the corridors of the brig. He could go and ask which cell they were being held in, but he didn't want to deal with the guards. Instead he opened himself to the force.  
  
He could feel them near by, three humans, and a Wookiee, alternately terrified, or angry, but his awareness of them was dim. The princess seemed to drown them out, an almost blazing light at the edge of his perception. He felt a fresh sting of pain as he though of her again.  
  
The lives of others mean nothing. Death is everywhere.  
  
He tried to take comfort in that thought, what the Emperor has taught him so many years ago. It didn't help. All it did was bring his mind back to the feeling he had experienced while watching the battle. Death, and pain, it felt like someone he had known, but that made no sense. He didn't really know anyone, he didn't have any friends. Who then?  
  
For second his hand brushed a datacard in his pocket.  
  
No! Don't think about that! It's dangerous to think about it!  
  
With discipline learned from years of keeping his father and the Emperor from hearing his thoughts, Luke buried all of his emotions and doubts. He banished them from his mind and turned to the task at hand.  
  
He came upon the cell where the rebels were being held. A guard stood outside the door, keeping watch. Luke walked towards him and stationed himself in front of the entrance to the cell. He turned to the guard.  
  
"Open this door, I'm here to interrogate the prisoners."  
  
"Yes, my lord," the man said as he keyed in the commands. "We've done some preliminary questioning. They claim not to have been told the location of the base," he told Luke as the door slid open.  
  
"I'll determine that for myself," Luke told the man, and than turned to step into the cell.  
  
"Yes, my lord," the guard said again as the door slid shut behind Luke.  
  
Luke looked around the cell. It was larger than the one that the princess had been confined to. The occupants were all seated on benches. Their arms were chained securely to the wall behind them. He looked at the rebels themselves, and into three surrealy familiar faces; faces he had seen only in dreams and distant memories. One of them looked up at him, wide eyes under dark hair.  
  
"Luke?"  
  
  
  
Poor Luke and Leia, they're so confused. Really sucks to be them.  
  
Ah well, what did you think? Good, bad , so-so, boring, what? Give me some feedback. It only takes you a moment to write a review. It took me considerably longer to write this story, which you've apparently enjoyed enough to read all eighteen thousand or so words of. 


	6. Friends?

Author's notes: I was suppose to post this yesterday, but Fanfiction.net was down, so you're getting it a little later than I had planned. There's a lot of grief, confusion, and a little bit of comic relief in this one.  
  
Big thanks to all the people who review regularly, and to Shezan for helping get the mistakes out of this story.  
  
But, I digress. Here it is, even longer than the last chapter:  
  
Broken Wings Chapter Six  
  
  
  
This is not happening. I'm going to wake up in the barracks on Dantooine and this will all have been a bad dream.  
  
Biggs strained against the shackles binding him to the wall behind him. It was pointless, he knew, but it felt better than simply sitting around waiting for an imperial officer to come and begin their interrogations, or worse, waiting for Darth Vader. The guards that had brought them to the cell had hinted that the Sith lord was on board. His first encounter with the Dark Lord of the Sith, and the loss of his best friend had filled him with fear for years to come. Horror and hopelessness began to fill his soul, threatening to control him.  
  
No, he wouldn't allow himself to be intimidated. The guards had just been trying to scare them. What were the chances that of all the ships in the Imperial Fleet, Vader would be on this one? He wasn't going to allow that tactic to succeed. If Vader walked into the cell, then he would begin to worry. Unfortunately, it wasn't the only tactic they seemed to have in mind.  
  
He knew why he had been put in the same detention cell as his friends. The imperials thought that they would be more likely to give in if they had to watch their friends suffer. Would he? He wasn't certain. If they began to torture Brake or Jarru, or even the Wookiee he barely knew, would he give in? Not that it mattered. They didn't know anything that would be of any use to the Empire. Unfortunately, he doubted that the imperial officers sent to interrogate them would believe that.  
  
He almost wished he had died in the battle, just like...  
  
Oh hell, Coric. You always said you were willing to give your life for a just cause. Looks like you got your chance.  
  
The Empire has taken too much from us, first, Luke and now, you, Coric. I swear I'll find a way to pay them back for all of this.  
  
Biggs tried to keep himself from wallowing in grief for his friend, but it was hard. He had lost other squad-mates before, and it was never easy, but losing Coric was much worse. He had known the kind, stubborn, giant for nearly all of his life.  
  
Biggs pulled his thoughts away from his lost friend. He would deal with the living before grieving for the dead.  
  
He glanced around the cell. Jarru was leaning forward, with her head in her hands, lacking her usual air of angry confidence. She seemed to be lost in thought. He had to make certain she survived. Biggs knew that if Jarru died here, they would lose Tinker as well. He would never be able to live without her. They were closer than any two people Biggs had ever met. Sometimes they fought like siblings, sometimes they seemed almost as close as lovers, but he knew they couldn't live without each other. Jarru knew what would happen to Tinker if she didn't come back, and Biggs knew that nothing he could say would comfort her.  
  
At the far end of the bench, Shanbara gave a low, sad moan, and shifted arms held by heavy duty binders. While Biggs couldn't even begin to decipher the Wookiee's exact words, her expression made her meaning clear. Shanbara, if anyone, knew what the Empire was capable of. The Empire's treatment of Wookiee slaves was well known among rebel cells.  
  
Disturbed by the sound, Brake moaned slightly at Biggs' side. Biggs turned to his friend. Brake was leaning against the wall, his eyes glazed over.  
  
When Biggs had been pulled from his X-Wings cockpit, the sight of a stormtrooper pointing a blaster rifle at Brake's head had been enough to convince him to cooperate. Jarru and Shanbara seemed to restrain themselves for the same reasons. Brake, however, had been the first one captured and he hadn't had the same incentive.  
  
Judging from the black eye that the lieutenant in charge had been sporting, Brake had put up a pretty good fight. The imperial stormtroopers hadn't taken it easy on him, though. Brake was in bad shape. Biggs could tell he needed medical attention, and soon. Aside from what appeared to be a large number of fractures and bruises, Brake almost certainly had a concussion.  
  
Seeing that Brake was starting to fall asleep, dangerous under these circumstances, Biggs gave him a nudge to wake him up. Growing up around Luke, with his recklessness and obvious poor judgment, Biggs had gotten a lot of practice with first aid. Luke had always had more bravery than brains.  
  
Brake stirred, and looked towards Biggs, normally handsome features distorted by blood. He gaze was misty, and his eyes unfocused. "Where... where are... we?" he slurred.  
  
"Just stay calm, Brake, that's all that matters." Biggs replied, trying to keep his own voice from shaking.  
  
Brake glanced around the room. Jarru looked up at him, her eyes filled with uncharacteristic concern. Shanbara growled in what had to be a reassuring way.  
  
"Where... is... Coric?" Brake asked, but Biggs could already see the dread in his eyes.  
  
"He's dead."  
  
Brake nodded, as if he already knew that.  
  
Voices outside drew Biggs' attention from his friend. He saw Shanbara and Jarru look up as well, straining to hear.  
  
"Yes, my lord," came the door guards voice. "We've done some preliminary questioning. They claim not to have been told the location of the base."  
  
Lord? Lord Vader? Please, Force, no.  
  
As the door slid open, Biggs feel his heart skip a beat, momentarily thinking his fears were confirmed at the sight of a black cloaked figure. He quickly realized that it couldn't be Vader, there was no mask, no dreaded sound of mechanized breathing.  
  
"I'll determine that for myself," the cloaked man responded, turning away before the guard could even finish his expected expected answer, door sliding shut behind him, but by then Biggs wasn't listening to the guard.  
  
The voice the man responded in definitely wasn't Vader's. It was a voice Biggs knew, more mature, but still the same sound he had heard in nightmares, calling out in fear in a hundred times.  
  
It couldn't be. It was impossible. He was dead.  
  
Blond hair and bright blue eyes confirmed Biggs' suspicions.  
  
The man's frigid gaze searched the room quickly, skipping over the Wookiee, and then grew shocked. His eyes grew wider as he scanned each of their faces, his brow furrowed as if uncertain of what he was seeing. Biggs was certain. It had to be him.  
  
"Luke?" he asked, and in response the man stepped forward, dropping down to look Biggs in the eyes. Biggs heard Jarru's gasp, and Shanbara's questioning bark, but he ignored them.  
  
Blue eyes with dark shadows under them looked at him, searching his face. His gaze had lost its coldness. The pain looking back at Biggs in that face was almost too much to bare. Luke's brow furrowed again, as if trying to recall some distant memory.  
  
"Biggs?" he asked, uncertain. "Is that you?"  
  
"Luke!" He didn't know what to say, what to think. "I thought they'd killed you."  
  
He let out half a laugh, mirthless and unnatural sounding, almost as if he was out of practice. He raised his gloved hand for a second, close to Biggs' face and than dropped it.  
  
"I suppose in a way they did." There was such pain and hopelessness in Luke's response that Biggs wanted to reach out to him.  
  
Luke backed away suddenly, his gazed flicked to Jarru, registering recognition almost immediately, and then to Brake, who lay half conscious against the wall. Biggs got the impression of a blast door closing. When Luke's eyes returned to Biggs, they were as cold as a desert night. There was no trace of the boy he had known.  
  
"You joined the rebellion." It was clearly a statement, not a question. Luke seemed to regard them with something approaching malice.  
  
Luke had joined the Empire. What had he been given, promised, that would make him betray all of his youthful ideals? No, that didn't seem right. It did not fit with the torment he had seen reflected in Luke's eyes.  
  
"Luke, what happened to you? What did they do to you?" Biggs asked, and watched emotions war on Luke's face, a fleeting crack in the blast door, that quickly vanished.  
  
"They trained me," he replied, deadpan.  
  
"Trained you?" Biggs asked, terrified of what Luke's answer would be.  
  
"Trained me as a Sith. I am Vader's apprentice," Luke responded, calm and cold, seemingly detached.  
  
Biggs' eyes widened in disbelief, his thoughts spinning. Luke was a Sith? The guard outside had called Luke, "my lord." So when Vader had come to Tatooine it hadn't been to finish the Jedi purge, but to find an heir. Luke was Darth Vader's heir.  
  
His best friend regarded him with irritatingly cold, and collected calm. It looked like was waiting for Biggs to reach the obvious conclusion. Luke had been sent there to interrogate them. But Luke couldn't have known it was them, Biggs saw the surprise on his face when he recognized them. He couldn't have known. How did Sith interrogate people anyway?  
  
Biggs opened his mouth to say something, anything, but was cut off by Jerru's enraged scream.  
  
"You Bastard! We gave up everything to join the rebellion! To avenge you! And you've been working for them, for Vader, all this time? Coric died for this!" she screamed. Shanbara growled loudly. Biggs could tell that they were both looking for some vent to the anger and confusion they all felt.  
  
Jarru's outburst had a profound effect on Luke. He staggered backwards and sat down onto the bench opposite Biggs. He didn't respond for a while. Once again the coldness was gone, the blast door open, the frigid confidence replaced by scared, confused innocence... and pain.  
  
"He's dead? How?" Luke asked quietly. He was almost whispering.  
  
His reaction seemed to calm Jarru a little, or at least reduce her to similar confusion, but it did not kill the vehemence in her voice entirely. "His X-Wing was shot down by one of those imperial TIE fighters."  
  
"When?" he asked simply.  
  
Biggs decided that he had better answer that one. Jarru looked like she was gearing herself up for another outburst. "During the skirmish. He was about to jump to hyperspace when a TIE shot him down."  
  
Luke nodded, his eyes on the floor. He buried his face in his hands for a long moment. Once or twice he looked up to regard Brake, who was still slumped semi-conscious against the wall, looking at Luke as if he wasn't quiet certain who he was. Biggs got the impression that Luke was trying to decide what to do with them.  
  
He finely stood, took them all in with a single look, and then pressed the control panel to open the door. As Luke stepped out, Biggs heard him address the guard.  
  
"Did you hear any of that?" he asked in a tone of voice that demanded response and obedience.  
  
"S-some of it, my lord," came the guards fearful reply.  
  
"No, you didn't," Luke said, in the same tone of voice.  
  
"I didn't," the guard replied, his voice now completely monotone.  
  
Biggs shuddered. He had a fairly good idea of what had happened between Luke and the guard and it made him uneasy to say the least, almost as uneasy as the knowledge of what had become of his best friend.  
  
"Force, Luke, what did they do to you?" he mumbled to himself. It was painful to think that this troubled man was once the boy he had played and laughed with for so long.  
  
Shanbara growled a question, which Biggs understood.  
  
"I'll... I'll explain later, okay? Just not now." He was relived at the Wookiee's bark of acceptance.  
  
"It would have been easier if he really was dead, at least then we'd still have our convictions," Jarru said through unshed tears.  
  
"No," Biggs said, "We still do. What happened to Luke, whatever it was, is only proof that the Empire has to be destroyed." When she looked at him, questioning, he continued. "He's in pain. Look at him. What do you think it took to turn that kid we knew into that?  
  
"He was right. In a way, they did kill him."  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
As Luke turned away from the cell guard, he felt a strange burning in his eyes. He brought his hand up to his face, and then pulled it away suddenly. His hand was covered in tears. Shocked and deeply disturbed he turned from the cell block and beat a quick path to his quarters.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Vader sat in his meditation chamber, having given up on actually meditating. He could feel an unpleasant amount of frustration coming from his son, among other emotions of doubt and confusion. The boy, as far as he could tell, was in the sparring chamber, clearly taking out this new found emotion on some droids.  
  
Vader didn't like what he was feeling from the boy. It was fluctuating, unstable, and extremely out of character. The boy was almost always completely controlled, or at the very least emotionally numb, something that suited Vader just fine since the Emperor had forbidden him from teaching the boy how to shield his thoughts or feelings. The emotions that the boy did transfer through the Force were invariably either anger, or, more rarely, fear, and the latter only came when Luke was brought before the Emperor himself, and never under any other circumstances.  
  
Like so many other things the Emperor tried to rule the boy through fear. He thought to acquire Luke's loyalty though terror of further pain. To some extant he had succeeded. The boy never even considered betraying them or attempting to escape anymore. He obeyed without question. Vader was at least... pleased that the part of Luke's training that the Emperor had overseen was almost over. Listening to his son's metal screams had been... unpleasant.  
  
But Palpatine had overlooked one thing. While the boy the boy feared him, he truly owed loyalty to Vader. He had, after all, never harmed the boy. He had protected the boy as best he could without challenging his master, and Luke knew this. If Palpatine thought to replace his loyal servant with the boy, Vader knew that Luke would come to his defense, if for no other reason than to be given a chance to repay Palpatine for ten years of pain. If of course, the boy could find the courage to face his tormentor...  
  
However brutal, the results of the training that Palpatine had given the boy were obvious. He had learned quickly, amazingly so. So quickly in fact, that Palpatine had chosen to slow the boy's progression, lest he become too powerful too quickly to be controlled, and Luke's Force strength wasn't the only side effect of this training. His mind was alarmingly, or perhaps unnaturally, focused. When the boy was given a task, he devoted himself entirely to it. There was never any room for outside thoughts or feelings. When the boy wasn't engaged in a task of some sort, either as a result of an assignment, or his own interest, he slept. Lately Luke had been sleeping more and more often. He seemed less inclined to pursue the things that had fascinated so much when he was younger, fascinations that Vader had always indulged. Vader suspected that this pattern had emerged as a defense by which Luke could be assured some privacy within his own mind. Palpatine had punished the boy for errant thoughts on many occasions. Vader had also begun to note a creeping sense of despair in his son. Something that was slowly beginning to concern him, though the boy himself seemed unaware of it.  
  
The boy's usual mental focus was one of the reasons that Vader found this sudden new pattern of of thought and behavior unnerving. Though it had seemed to have purged some of the listlessness from the boy, and brought him further strength in the darkside, Vader knew that it could be leading to something far more... unpleasant for his son.  
  
Vader tried to trace the emergence of this feeling in his son. He was convinced it had something to do with the princess. It was not long after Luke had been sent to escort her to her cell that the feelings had begun. Perhaps he had been in error to allow the boy to meet the young senator. He was, after all, still young, and the princess, in both appearance and attitude, too closely reminded Vader of another royal turned senator.  
  
Vader checked the computer console at his side. The only actions his son had taken since escorting the princess to her cell, had been to visit the rebel pilots he was suppose to interrogate, and also, curiously, to order medical attention for one of the prisoners.  
  
Rising from his seat, Vader strode to the door that lead to the sparring chamber. He pressed his hand to the control panel to open the door. Inside his son stood amid the wrecked remains of several sparring droids, ruby-red lightsaber in hand. There were four droids remaining, and his son was holding them off with apparent ease, his frustration adding to his anger, and his anger to his power in the force. The droids themselves were armed with lightsabers, but that seemed to make little difference, as the boy ducked under one swinging blade and then stepped up to decapitate the attacking droid.  
  
Vader stood for a time, watching his son. Perhaps it was not such as bad thing if contact with this princess had cleared the boy of his indifference, and allowed him to reach such a level of skill.  
  
"Yes, Father?" Luke said, not taking his eyes off his opponents.  
  
"Have you begun the interrogations?" Vader asked.  
  
"No, not yet" the boy answered as he parried a strike from one robot and then ducked an attack from another.  
  
"The detention level records seem to indicate otherwise," Vader rumbled, inwardly pleased at the boy's improving skill.  
  
"The stormtroopers..." Luke charged into an aggressive assault on one of the droids. "...took the liberty..." A quick strike knocked the droid off balance. "...of softening up... the leader." He sliced the droid in half and turned to meet another attack. "He was in need... of..." The last two droids were coordinating their attacks. "Immediate... medical assistance..." The boy focused on one of his opponents, driving it backwards with a series or brutal slashes. "...and I can't interrogate him..." He made it through the droid's defenses and sliced it down the center. "...if... he's..." He turned around in just to face the last droid's attack. He didn't raised his lightsaber instead he raised a gloved hand. "...dead!" The droid went flying backwards across the room to impact with the wall, leaving a sizable dent, and falling to the floor, crushed by the sheer strength of the attack.  
  
Luke stood there for a few moments, panting. Vader could tell feel the negative emotions, that had brought Luke such strength, beginning to dissipate as the boy began to calm, his frustration spent.  
  
Vader studied him. What the boy had just told him had been at least partially true. It seemed that his inability to speedily complete the task which he had been assigned was a great departure from routine for the boy and part of the source of the boy's frustration. Though it now seemed to Vader that a large part of that anger was aimed inwardly, at the boy himself. Perhaps the boy took this inability to complete the task as a source of personal failure. That would not be entirely surprising, he had always been hard on himself.  
  
"I'm going to go inspect those ships we captured. Those X-Wings are a new design and I'd like to know why they're so effective against our TIE fighters," Luke said once he had regained his breath.  
  
Or perhaps not...  
  
The princess was certainly involved, but so were the other rebels, and the task of interrogating them. Whatever it had been, it was having a profound effect on the boy. When Luke had been younger he had always demonstrated a vast fascination with ships, but that had recently begun to ebb. Vader decided to leave the boy be for the time. He would keep an eye on him, ready to interfere if it seemed that something was going wrong.  
  
When Vader nodded his assent, the boy turned away, heading to the door that lead to his own quarters.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Luke stepped from his quarters and walked with quick strides to the hangar where the X-Wings were being kept. He had cleaned himself and changed his clothing, and only now, that he was on his way, he allowed himself to consider what had happened between himself and his father in the sparring chamber. He had actually deceived Darth Vader. The thought terrified him. He had never been capable of lying to either the Emperor, or his father. He wasn't certain how, but for some reason his father had failed to sense the half-truth he had told.  
  
He was, in fact, intending to study the captured X-Wings, but not because of any interest in the design. His true intentions were half formed, and rooted in the painful confrontation with three of his childhood companions. He was shaken to his core by the encounter. A painful and unfamiliar feeling of guilt tried to worm its way into his mind, but he brushed it off, buried it under anger. A fresh surge of frustration welled up from inside him.  
  
He had ordered medical care for Brake and tried to justify it to himself the way he had explained it to his father. He couldn't interrogate him if he was dead. But the more he thought those words, the more they rang false.  
  
One day, one simple mission had unseated him more than any number of battles and assassinations ever could. It had begun when he had glimpsed the princess with that R2 droid. He had watched her until she slipped out of sight, then he had taken the plans from the R2 unit and cleared its memory but not before... His hand went instinctively to the pocket that had held the datacard, but of course it wasn't there anymore, he had hidden it in his quarters. What had possessed him?  
  
Once again he forced that thought from his mind. It was too dangerous to think about.  
  
Instead his thoughts wandered back to the princess. They seemed to be doing that a lot lately. He was bothered by the knowledge that she would suffer for the rebels. He could see her resolve and he knew that she would not give in easily. Why was she willing to sacrifice so much for these people, these traitors?  
  
From there his thoughts moved on to the rebel pilots. He was suppose to interrogate them. He wasn't certain that he could. He didn't dare refuse the task he had been given, and he doubted that he would be so lucky as to succeed in deceiving his father again. What had they had told him...  
  
Coric  
  
He violently pushed that train of thought away as a fresh surge of guilt struck him. He felt dizzied by his own chaotic thoughts. He strode into the hangar and was pulled from his internal struggles by a very loud external, argument.  
  
An unfamiliar ship sat near the captured X-Wings. It was vaguely circular, and very ugly. It looked as if someone had cobbled in together out of space debris. In front of the ship, a shady looking human man and a large Wookiee were arguing with an officer and his accompanying stormtroopers.  
  
"Look, for the last time, we're not smugglers. We carry cargo and passengers. You've already searched my ship, how much more poof do you want?" the man was complaining to the officer, sounding as sincere as someone who looked that disreputable was capable of sounding. He was also lying through his teeth.  
  
The Wookiee added a loud bark to argument, Luke didn't speak Wookiee, nor did the officer for that matter, but he certainly looked intimidated, despite the line of stormtroopers at his back.  
  
"Procedure clearly states..." the officer began, only to be cut off by the smuggler.  
  
"I don't care about procedure, I want my ship back!" the man practically yelled.  
  
Why? Luke wondered in amusement. He walked passed the small group, perfectly willing to let them sort it out for themselves, but the officer sighted him, and obviously not wanting to deal with the annoying smuggler himself, called out.  
  
"My lord!"  
  
Amusement quickly turned to irritation at having been delayed. Luke turned towards he officer and strode forward. "Yes," Luke glanced down at the rank cylinders on the man's shirt. "Lieutenant?" he said in a displeased tone of voice.  
  
Now that Luke's attention was focused on him, the officer seemed much less sure of himself, but he stood stiffly at attention and delivered his report. "We intercepted this man's ship leaving an area known to be under the control of a notorious gangster. I believe that he is a smuggler in service to this criminal, but we did not find any evidence on board his... vessel," the Lieutenant concluded.  
  
Luke regarded the smuggler from within the shadows of his hood. The man was trying to appear cocky, but Luke's sudden arrival had unsettled him. He was already worried, he had dumped his cargo when the Star Destroyer had appeared. He smirked at Luke, while shifting his posture slightly, trying to get a look inside his cowl. Something about his attitude irritated Luke further.  
  
"Look," the man began, still wearing that infuriating smirk, "I'm sure we can sort this out..."  
  
Luke had heard enough. "He's a smuggler. He dropped his cargo when Devastator appeared. Take him, and the Wookiee to the brig." Luke glanced at the smuggler's suddenly shocked expression with satisfaction. The stormtroopers closed on the two outlaws, binders in hand. Luke had begun to walk away when he heard the Wookiee menacing growl, and the officer's yell.  
  
Luke turned back to see the Wookiee holding one of the troopers, while his startled companion tried to clam him. It didn't appear to be working. It seemed that the Wookiee really didn't want to be taken prisoner.  
  
Luke watched the ensuing chaos for a moment before interfering. His limited patience was at an end. He put his arm out, focused his anger, grasped the Force and used it to first pull the unfortunate stormtrooper from the Wookiee's strangle hold, and then slam the Wookiee into the wall and hold him there.  
  
A stunned silence descended over the combatants. Few people saw the Force used in their lifetimes. The officer and stormtroopers stopped in place, save for the one laying on the ground gasping for air. The human smuggler just stared in open astonishment, while the Wookiee growled and barked in confusion.  
  
"Whoa, whoa, Chewie, calm down okay," the smuggler said, before slowly turning to to Luke and swallowing noticeably. "Look, ah, do ya think you could let him down now, maybe?" he asked with fear in his eyes. Luke was astonished. That had been more bravery then he was expecting the man to demonstrate on the Wookiee's behalf. The Wookiee moaned miserably. In response Luke released his Force hold on the creature. The Wookiee fell to the ground and the stormtroopers rushed in to restrain him before he regained his senses. The smuggler himself pulled his blaster out of the holster at his side and place it on the ground, raising his arms and backing away when he was done. Some stormtroopers stepped forward to place binders on him as well.  
  
"T-thank you, my lord," the officer stuttered. Luke didn't respond, making his displeasure at having been bothered for such a trivial task clear though the Force. The Lieutenant grew pale at the perceptible feelings of malevolence and suddenly decided he had tasks to complete elsewhere.  
  
Luke watched them all. The smuggler had been honestly concerned for his companion, and though Luke could still feel the man's fear, and his unwillingness to part with his ship, he was ready to give that up so that the alien wouldn't be harmed. Luke was unsure what to make of it. He watched as the two captives were escorted away.  
  
Great, he though to himself, more prisoners to deal with.  
  
Luke shook his head and turned back to the X-Wings.  
  
  
  
See you for the next installment! And write a review while you're here! 


	7. Choice

Author's Note: Sorry this one took so long. I got my hands on a copy of Age of Mythology, and it sort of ate up my free time. Please forgive me!  
  
As of my posting this I have fifty-one reviews. Cool.  
  
This chapter has a bit more character development for Luke, and is written from his and Leia's POV. I'm afraid it's is a little slow, it's a long one so please bare with me. Things should speed up a bit soon.  
  
  
  
Broken Wings Chapter Seven  
  
Luke pressed his hand against the side of the captured X-Wing. He still didn't know what he was looking for, but he felt that he could find answers, or at least direction, here.  
  
The X-Wing design was unfamiliar. He had only see them in battle a few times, and had only flown against them once. They had been a challenge, even for his TIE advanced, and had cut a swath through the unshielded regular TIEs. They weren't as maneuverable as the smaller TIEs, but they made up for that with the edition of shields and more powerful weapons, not to mention the hyperdrive.  
  
To the Empire lives were cheap. With almost an infinite supply of potential pilots, imperial engineers were concerned with being able to create an inexpensive fighter that could be mass produced, but that would be maneuverable enough in combat to challenge slower rebel ships. Unlike the rebels, whose ships were defensive, but also equipped with hyperdrives to allow quick hit-and-run missions.  
  
Luke stepped between two of the fighters. He ran his fingers over the rebel insignia on the sides. "Dune Squadron," it read, recalling vague images of Tatooine. He wasn't certain how or why, but he felt a longing to watch the twin suns set again. Though he couldn't call up images of what the suns had looked like, the feeling was still powerful. He tried to retrieve half-formed memories, but eventually brushed them away when they remained outside his grasp.  
  
He reached for the ladder on the fighter he was inspecting. He climbed up the bars and looked into the cockpit. He let his gaze slip over the controls, searching. The seat had been fixed with some sort of tape at some point, and by the crumbs it looked like someone had been eating in here.  
  
He shook his head in disgust as he started to turn away. There was nothing here. No answers to the thousands of questions that lurked at the edge of his mind. Then, just before he actually began descending the ladder, something caught his eye.  
  
There, in the corner of the cockpit, next to the controls lay a pair of datacards. Luke reached for them, suddenly feeling as if he had found what he was looking for. He pocketed the two small objects and jumped down from the cockpit, using the Force to soften the fall.  
  
He walked as quickly as he could without running, eager to return to his quarters and inspect his find.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
He practically barreled through the door to his room, and then stopped. He glanced around the sleeping chamber again, convinced that something was different or wrong. His eyes scanned every object in the room. Everything was in place, neatly arranged as he had left it. The bed was made, there was even the tray of uneaten food sitting on the small table. So why did it feel as if something was out of place?  
  
With a sudden ripple of fear, Luke rushed to the computer terminal. He slid his hand along the wall next to it, feeling for the slight space between the wall and the machine. He reached in and felt his fingers brush the hidden datacard. He pulled it from its place and looked it over.  
  
Not this then, he thought to himself as he inspected it. He placed the card back into the hiding place.  
  
The feeling still tugged at him, but he didn't understand what it was trying to tell him. He looked around the room again, taking in the bare walls and sparse furnishings. Frustrated, he drove the feeling away.  
  
Luke walked to the table and sat down in front of the tray of food. He felt vaguely hungry, but was far more interested in the contents of the datacards he had taken from the X-Wing.  
  
The first one, it turned out, contained pictures. The first few were of people he didn't recognize. Some mechanics stood laughing over a droid of some sort, several pilots sat together, talking, a middle aged human woman scowled while standing in what looked like a med bay, clearly ordering the person who had taken the picture out of her domain. Rebels, he realized with a feeling of disgust.  
  
Then the people began to look familiar. He recognized Jarru and Brake instantly, having seen them only a short time ago, and the slow realization of who the others were began to sink in. They looked so different. Their faces had changed, they had matured, but their expressions were the same as the vague memories he still held on to. The one person absent from all the pictures was Biggs, which meant that this had to be his.  
  
He scrolled though the pictures faster, as the content changed again. Now he was looking at pictures of Tatooine, and Anchorhead. Most of them were of Biggs' family, but one, the second to last picture on the card stood out. It was Luke, and his friends, taken when he had been no more then nine years old. They crowed together, grinning. He remembered when the picture had been taken at Biggs' eleventh birthday, remembered smiling as Biggs' father took it. They were all there. Biggs stood at the front with Tullen, Jarru, and Luke himself, while Brake, Tinker, and Coric stood behind them.  
  
Feelings of pain and guilt assaulted him again and he almost thew both of the datacards in the refuse, almost. He forced himself to look at the last picture. The same group stood together, except they were all older, and instead of the buildings of Anchorhead, a hangar filled with rebel ships stood in the background. Every one of them was in the same place as in the last picture, except between Biggs and Tullen was an empty space, his space.  
  
He forced himself to look at the picture harder. No, their expressions weren't the same, they had all changed. The innocence and joy that had once filled their eyes was gone, long ago replaced by determination. Biggs' smile, once so easy and joyful, now looked almost sad.  
  
He placed the datacard down, and looked at the next one. It was almost empty, save for a draft of a letter to Biggs' father. Luke began to read, and almost found he couldn't continue, it was too painful.  
  
Dear Father, The letter began.  
  
I know you didn't approve of my leaving to join the rebellion, and we really haven't been able to see eye to eye since, but I thought I could at least try to explain why I felt I had to go. Almost ten years ago, my best friend, Luke, disappeared, and Owen and Beru Lars were murdered. Most people just thought that they had been killed by sand people. They weren't.  
  
I was there when it happened. It wasn't sand people, it was the Empire. I know you remember that day when Tinker, Jarru, and I were gone all night. We saw it happen. We kept our mouths shut because we didn't think anyone would believe us.  
  
Dad, Darth Vader was there. They were after Luke. This old man, Kenobi, said it was because Luke's father used to be a Jedi.  
  
Luke's dead. They killed him, they must have. I had to go, Dad, I had to. Everyday we hear more stories of atrocities, slavery, mass executions, and torture. I couldn't just hope that they would never come back to Tatooine. Someone has to do something.  
  
The Alliance's cause is really worth fighting for. You always told me to stand up for myself. I know what we're doing is right, we can only hope we have a chance against them.  
  
I'll try to get this letter sent out soon, and I'll write again, I promise.  
  
Love, Biggs  
  
Suddenly exhausted, Luke hid the datacards, and collapsed onto his bed. It was a lie, it all had to be, Alliance propaganda, nothing more. His father wasn't a Jedi, he told himself as felt himself falling asleep.  
  
  
  
"Foolish child! Do as I say!"  
  
He blinked blood and sweat out of his eyes, desperately trying to concentrate on the small block of stone in front of him. It wasn't working. The shooting pain in his leg from his last collision with the wall kept distracting him.  
  
"I can't! It hurts too much!"  
  
"Idiot child! Use your pain! Use it to fuel your anger and give you strength!"  
  
He tried, but couldn't find any anger to hold onto, only pain and fear. He was terrified that the Emperor would again demonstrate the ability by slamming him into the wall. He tried not to look at his leg, he knew it lay at an unnatural angle.  
  
He reached out and searched for anger, searched for the Force. He felt a spark within him, he hated the Emperor, hated this place, hated every imperial guard in the palace. He focused on that feeling, tried to draw from it. The block of stone lifted a few inches, then a few feet into the air, and stayed there wavering. He felt a sudden rush of elation and relief. He had done it at last, maybe now he would be given rest.  
  
The block suddenly plummeted to the floor, stopping a bare inch above the polished marble. Up on the throne, the Emperor sat. He could feel the power emanating from his tormentor, feel him holding the stone.  
  
The block was slowly lowered to the floor. He waited where he lay, panting, glad for the reprieve, however short. He didn't know what he had done wrong. He had felt it, felt the power, and for once actually manged to control it, but then it had slipped away from him. He didn't know why.  
  
"Foolish boy. Do not release your anger so easily." the Emperor hissed, slowly stepping from the platform. He flinched, reflexively, fearing more pain to come.  
  
The Emperor stopped and stood there, inspecting him. He felt the cold of that gaze, the sheer power and darkness. He started to shiver. The Emperor turned around suddenly, and settled himself back into his seat.  
  
"I grow weary of this," he said, settling back and watching Luke, now struggling to sit up on the cold floor. "Lord Vader, get this thing away from me and bring it back when it's ready to continue."  
  
Luke looked up in alarm as a dark figure strode from the shadows. Only now could he hear the hissing sound of the respirator. Darth Vader, his father, walked towards him. He thought he heard Vader say something to the Emperor, but he couldn't focus on it, he was filled with relief that the lesson was over.  
  
He felt Vader lift him, and as he did, the pain in his leg seemed to disappear. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off into sleep.  
  
  
  
His dreams changed form and became shadowy figures, attacking him from the darkness. He fought against them, but his tormentors were always close, no matter how hard he struggled. He tried to lash out but couldn't, feeling himself held fast. A voice was questioning him, demanding answers he knew he couldn't give. He wouldn't give in, never, no matter what they did. His mind felt cloudy, somehow wrong. He couldn't control his thoughts but he held on to himself, refusing to give them what they wanted. A sharp pain stung him, filling his veins with liquid fire. He felt himself shuddering from the agony. He tried to fight it, tried ever harder to hold on to his purpose. At long last the figures seemed to fade away into the darkness from which they had come and he let himself fall into oblivion again.  
  
  
  
Luke awoke with a start. He lay still for a short time, letting his breath slow. His dreams remained clear. Most of them had been familiar, the same scenes and feelings replayed themselves a thousand times in nightmares. The last dream, however, had been different.  
  
It wasn't that he hadn't had dreams of shadowy horrors before, quite the opposite. But this one hadn't been the same as the others he often had. Through out the entire nightmare he had felt a sense of purpose, a determination that was foreign to him. He had only felt such a sense of focus once, recently, when he had touched the princess' mind.  
  
The princess!  
  
The princess must have been under going interrogation. Somehow the ease with which he had read her thoughts had allowed he pain to seep into his dreams. He reached out for her, calling to her mind. The connection was almost impossibly easy to create. Once he did he could feel her pain and shifting, half drugged thoughts. She was curled into a ball on the slab that served as a bed in her cell, nursing her wounds. He could sense her emotions, pain, fear, and... triumph.  
  
She had resisted the torture. She hadn't told them what they wanted to know. She had fought until Vader had left, defeated. Luke felt brief joy at her success, and then squashed it mercilessly. If this princess didn't give them the location of the rebel base then Luke would have to pull it from captive rebel pilots... but if she did she would be killed immediately. He couldn't bare the thought of her dying. He didn't know what he could do for any of them. No matter what happened, no matter what he did, he would lose. He hadn't felt so helpless in years.  
  
It was his fault, his fault that Coric was dead now. Guilt surged within him yet again, but this time he couldn't repress it. He had ordered the X- Wing destroyed when it had begun the jump to light speed. He had killed him. The pain he felt at that thought was as incomprehensible as it was unbearable. He had ordered deaths before, and been personally responsible for others. He had served as the Emperor's assassin without feeling any remorse. But he knew Coric, he was part of a memory from a happier time, a memory that had almost been lost to him until the encounter with his childhood friends save for in fleeting dreams. A memory that he had locked away for fear the Emperor would seek out and harm his old friends. Could he help the others?  
  
He shook that notion away. He was a servant of the Empire. He would not even begin to consider the rebels as anything other than the traitors they were. Except...  
  
His... friends were in danger. He wanted to protect them, but he couldn't even begin to understand how. He had already helped them once. When he had entered that cell he had felt Brake's failing life force. He had done what little he could by ordering medical assistance. It was an action easily explained away, but no matter how many times he repeated the excuse to himself, he still couldn't make himself believe it. Some part of him insisted that he repay Coric's memory by helping them further. It was the same part that felt pain at the knowledge of the princess' fate.  
  
Luke stood up. He would go to the brig and see what he could do, maybe he could save them, somehow. He reached out through the Force, trying to find his father. Vader was resting, Luke could just barely feel the edges of faint, flickering, thoughts. If his father was resting, then he at least wouldn't have to worry about him sensing his intentions. While Luke could hide things from his father that Vader had no knowledge of by pushing them from conscious thought, Luke doubted he would succeed in directly deceiving him again.  
  
He dressed and ate slowly, considering what he was on the brink of doing. Brake would be returned to the cell soon, if he wasn't there already. He could make it look like he was going to begin the interrogations.  
  
Luke didn't know what was happening to him. He would never have even considered disobeying his father or the Emperor before. The very notion was enough to make his stomach turn and his hands shake. But somehow, this felt important. He knew what he had to do, and if his father found out afterwords, if his father told the Emperor... Fear began to creep up his spine. If it happened, he would deal with it then.  
  
His resolve strengthened, he pulled the cowl of his cloak up over his face, and walked out into the hallway. He strode through the corridors so quickly and with such determination that he was almost surprised when he found himself facing the entrance to the cell block. Within, two officers still sat at the monitors. He passed then without thought or comment. He walked passed the princess' cell, stopping for only a minute at the feelings of pain coming from inside. He could do nothing for her now, maybe he would return to speak with her later.  
  
A different guard waited outside the pilot's cell. Luke walked forward to address him. "I don't need you here right now. Go wait at the cell block entrance."  
  
"But my lord..." the man began to protest.  
  
"I said go."  
  
The guards eyes widened. He barely manged to finish bowing before taking off.  
  
Luke waited before entering. Inside he could feel three people's emotions. They were worried about their missing companion.  
  
Luke opened the cell door and stepped inside. Their eyes shot up to watch him the moment he entered. The Wookiee growled fiercely, and Jarru just glared at him suspiciously.  
  
"Where's Brake?" Biggs asked the moment the door closed. His voice was filled with both suspicion and concern. He didn't look like he had gotten any rest in the hours since Luke visited them last, none of them did.  
  
"He's in the med bay being treated for his injuries. He'll be brought back soon," Luke said, leaning against the wall.  
  
"Did you...?" Biggs didn't quite finish, but Luke knew what he wanted to know.  
  
"Yes, I ordered the treatment," he responded.  
  
"Why?"  
  
The question caught Luke off guard. He waited for a few seconds before answering, and decided to stick with the truth, they only truth he was sure of.  
  
"He would have died if he hadn't received medical care." When Biggs just watched him, silent, Luke decided to continue. "I think you know why I'm here, what duty I've been assigned."  
  
Biggs nodded saying, "You're suppose to interrogate us." Jarru remained silent, surprisingly. Biggs must have told her he would handle it. Biggs met Luke's gaze. "Will you?"  
  
Luke sighed, dropping his eyes, unable to meet the questions in Biggs' expression. "No, I won't."  
  
Biggs smiled, Luke could feel his relief through the Force. "Not that it would make much difference, we don't know where it is anyway."  
  
"What?" Luke asked, taken by surprise. He could tell that Biggs was telling the truth. Not only did he feel it through the Force, but Biggs was also a terrible liar.  
  
"We don't know where the Alliance base is. The base we were sent out from was being evacuated, we weren't given the new coordinates," Biggs replied, shrugging.  
  
"How come?"  
  
"In case we were captured."  
  
Luke nodded, assimilating this new information. It might change things, make them easier. It did make sense. If the rebels were going through such great lengths to hide their base, they would obviously make certain as few people knew it as possible.  
  
The princess knew, she had to, but she was his father's business, not his. He shouldn't concern himself with her.  
  
"Luke?" Biggs asked quietly. "How did you get here? What happened after Vader took you away?"  
  
"That's none of your concern," Luke responded, looking away and crossing his arms, unable to deal with the sympathy in his friend's voice. Luke could feel Biggs' steady gaze on him, but he didn't turn back.  
  
"I'm your friend, Luke, tell me..."  
  
"I am not the boy you knew anymore," Luke responded, unable to keep the slowly building anger out of his voice.  
  
Biggs was silent for a few minutes. "Why are you helping us?" he asked eventually.  
  
I... I didn't want to see you, any of you, hurt..." The came as if they had been ripped from his throat, but for some reason he didn't think he could lie to them.  
  
"I knew it was still you, Luke. Whatever they did to you, you're..." Biggs tried to say, his voice full of sympathy.  
  
Luke felt a burst of uncontrolled anger. He didn't want or need this pity. He just wanted to get them out of his life, so that everything could go back to how it was before, before his emotions had been turned upside down. He wasn't doing it for them. "Save your sympathy for someone who deserves it, Biggs," he hissed.  
  
He turned and stormed out the door before any of them could reply. It didn't think he could deal with them anymore, at least not just yet. He didn't try to control his emotions. Anger at least was something he was used to. It was a strange thing to take comfort in, but as long as he focused on it, it kept him from having to sort out his conflicting thoughts.  
  
He stopped at the turn that led to the small control area and leaned against the wall, anger suddenly dissipating of its own accord, replaced by guilt and fear. He didn't know why but he couldn't stay angry.  
  
He couldn't leave just yet either. The prison records had to show that he had been there for a long enough time to conduct a real interrogation or his father would surely get suspicious.  
  
Luke's head jerked up as he realized which cell door he was leaning against. He could sense the princess inside, nursing her wounds.  
  
Before Luke knew it, he was opening the door to speak with her.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Leia sat with her back pressed against the wall and her arms tight around he knees. She could still feel the aftereffects of the drugs they had injected her with. She felt dizzy and tired, but at least the worst was over... for now anyway.  
  
She felt hopelessness creeping up on her, but she pushed it away. She wouldn't let them brake her. She had too much to lose, too many people's lives depended on her. Even if she had failed in getting them the Death Star plans, she wouldn't let them down again. As long as the Alliance survived there was still hope.  
  
The door to her cell suddenly slid open. Leia looked up, her heart racing, thinking that Vader had returned to continue his work. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it wasn't him. Instead the young man who had brought her to the cell in the first place, stepped inside.  
  
He entered slowly, stopping to consider her from across the cell. He looked as if he wanted to say something. She watched him back, carefully. His blue eyes glinted at her from underneath his cowl. He looked so boyish, so innocent, it was hard to believe he was working for the Empire. The pain she had seen in his eyes made her want to protect him.  
  
No, this was Darth Vader's son, she reminded herself. He had probably been sent to try and get the base location from her.  
  
She straitened her back, lowered her feet to the floor, and adjusted her dress. No Sith spawned son of Vader was going to see her cowering on a bench. She ignored the sense of wooziness that came from the drugs, pulling royal dignity around her like a shield. She was a princess of Alderaan, she had faced down Darth Vader's tortures, she could face down this strange young man.  
  
"Here to finish what your father started?" she asked acidly. He seemed taken aback by that. He watched her, looking uncertain. He looked as if he was about to say something, but though better of it. "Well?" she demanded.  
  
"I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Princess," he said, eyes narrowing. "I shouldn't have come here. Please accept my apologies," he told her coldly, and then turned to exit.  
  
"Wait!" she called to him. His hand stopped an inch from the control panel. He turned to look back at her.  
  
She didn't know why, but she didn't want him to leave. Somehow she took comfort from his presence. Maybe it was that she had been locked in a cell, alone, since he had left her there, maybe it was because he was the only person she had spoken to since being captured who hadn't been pointing a blaster at her head... or trying to torture her, but she didn't want him to go.  
  
His kept his gaze on her. She shivered. There was something in the way he looked at her that made her feel like he was looking right through her.  
  
"Yes, Princess?" he prompted.  
  
"Why did you come here?" she asked him. Confusion flickered across his face, making him seem vulnerable for a short time.  
  
"I... I don't know," he answered hesitantly. He scowled at her plainly disbelieving expression. "As I said, Princess, I apologize for having bothered you."  
  
He began to turn back to the door. Leia stood up to say something to him. She staggered, suddenly dizzy. Next thing she knew he was holding her, helping her to her feet. She felt an odd tingling and the dizziness faded away, along with the other aftereffects of the interrogation drugs.  
  
She looked up at him and into blue eyes filled with concern. There was no coldness in them, he looked so different just then. He was still holding her. She was so close she could feel his breath on her face. Her heart began to beat faster. She couldn't think straight. Force, he was handsome.  
  
Overwhelmed by a sense of wrongness, the two of them pushed away from each other at the same time.  
  
Leia caught herself on the wall behind her and stared, wide eyed at him. He stared back, clearly as confused as she was. He swallowed a few times, looking weirdly childish, before regaining his composure, or some of it at least.  
  
"I'm sorry, Princess... I... I have to go." With that he turned from her and out the door. This time she didn't try to stop him.  
  
What had she been thinking? He was the son of one of the Alliance's greatest enemies. He was a Sith. Why did she feel she had to trust him? It defied all logic, but something, something she couldn't identify, had told her that he would protect her if he could.  
  
  
  
Okay, that's it for today. Goodbye and may the Force be with you... or something. 


	8. Arrival

Authors Notes: Hello again! Yup, I'm updating again, believe it or not. While I can't guarantee that the next update will come anytime soon, I can tell you that there will be another update.  
  
Anyways, I think anyone that has stuck with this story for so long deserves an explanation as to why it took me so long to update. I would attribute it to a combination of real-life syndrome, and a dissatisfaction with how the story was going. To put it simply, the story was going to slowly, while introspection is good, too much of it can slow things to a crawl. A serious bout of writer's block didn't help either. I hate it when that happens.  
  
To all the reviewers, I thank you most heartily. Particularly to Renee, Shezan, Culf, and any others who have been reviewing regularly. On a side note, to maverick gean, in regards to your review, one: you don't need to worry about that happening, eww, and two: Mara Jade will NOT be in this story, like I said, I didn't like most of the books so I'm ignoring them.  
  
Broken Wings Chapter Eight  
  
Luke watched out of the window in his quarters. He had just returned from docking bay. He felt a slight jerk as the blurred lines of hyperspace travel coalesced back into the familiar points of stars. In the distance a several Star Destroyers loomed, and just beyond, a massive sphere glinted in the light provided by a nearby star system.  
  
The Death Star, Luke knew, was the largest space station ever created. It was the Empire's greatest weapon, the product of a decade' work. Grand Moff Tarkin thought that it could be used to destroy the rebel alliance and to prevent any further insurrections. Luke was doubtful.  
  
It seemed odd to him that the Emperor had chosen to have this... thing constructed. What power could a space station have that would warrant all the resources that had been spent on its construction? Luke didn't know why the Emperor placed so much faith in it, but then Luke didn't know why the Emperor placed so much faith in Tarkin either. He had long since stopped trying to understand Palpatine.  
  
Luke watched as it grew ever closer. It was larger than he had thought from the schematics he had seen, the Star Destroyers were dwarfed by its bulk, seeming like nothing more than minuscule arrows.  
  
He turned back to look at his quarters. Through the dim light coming through the window he could still make out the shapes of the few objects and furniture in the room. There was still an odd feeling of wrongness, a distortion he couldn't place, as if the force was trying to tell him something, but he still couldn't place it.  
  
He knew that is he was to do anything about the prisoners he would have to act now, but he wasn't too optimistic about the prospect of deceiving his father again. Aside from the knowledge that he would most likely not be able to succeed, he felt an odd sort of loyalty to Vader..  
  
//It's now or never,// he though to himself. Everything was ready, the transport was prepared, the flight scheduled, the mechanic that had made the modifications had found himself with a mild case of amnesia, all that remained was for Luke to contact his father and inform him... and of course to speak with Biggs and the others. The latter seemed just as daunting as the former.  
  
Luke drew a deep breath and closed his eyes.  
  
//Father//  
  
//Yes, my son?// his father's voice answered.  
  
//The rebel pilots I was to interrogate know nothing. The rebellion seems to have taken precautions by not informing them of the location of the base we seek.// For a time there was no response, and Luke struggled to remain calm. If his father felt his apprehension, he would know that something wasn't right.  
  
Another few seconds passed and then...  
  
//Dispose of them,// came Vader's reply.  
  
Luke felt Vader cut off their link and relief flooded him. He slumped into one of the chairs in the room. Twice, twice he had deceived his father by telling half-truths.  
  
Luke stood slowly. He turned towards the door.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Biggs moved his shoulders around in an attempt to ease the cramp in his back. The harsh cell light were getting to him and his eyes were starting to hurt. He was tired, thirsty, hungry, needed to use the 'fresher, and wanted a shower desperately. A real shower, with running water, like the kind he'd never had on Tatooine. Maybe this was some kind of new Imperial torture technic; ignore the prisoners until they get so uncomfortable they give up.  
  
At least there was one good thing, Brake was back. He had a bacta patch on a cut on his head, but his concussion had been treated and he was awake and alert.  
  
Luke had done that for them.  
  
Biggs went back to trying to ease his shoulders. He didn't want to think about Luke. He was scared to death of what had happened to his friend, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was afraid of Luke even more. A few times while he had been speaking with Luke he had seen traces of the boy he used to know, but they were fleeting, immediately consumed by the face of this man he barely comprehend.  
  
When Brake had been brought back into the cell, only moments after Luke had left, he and Jarru had explained everything, about what had happened, and about Luke, to both Brake and Shanbara. Brake seemed to be in a state of shock, but Shanbara had been extremely understanding. That was new to him, he'd never expected a Wookiee to be... well, compassionate.  
  
Biggs glanced at her for a moment and saw her incline her head, as if listening for something. He glanced towards the door, just beyond he could hear a muffled conversation, and then receding footsteps, stiff and military sounding.  
  
The door slid open, Luke was standing just beyond. The guard was gone.  
  
Biggs looked away from his former friend's face, he couldn't stand looking at the pain in those eyes any longer. Brake was watching Luke silently and intently. Jarru was glaring. Biggs knew her well enough to know that she was just trying to cover up her confusion.  
  
"Hello Luke," Brake said calmly.  
  
Luke stood completely still and examined Brake for a sort while. He turned back towards Biggs before speaking. "Listen carefully," he began, eyes intense. "You are all going to be transferred to the Imperial spice mines at Kessel..."  
  
"Kessel!" Jarru shrieked. "That's a death sentence! Why don't you just kill us now and get it over with?"  
  
Shanbara let out a long piteous moan and Biggs turned back to stare at Luke in shock. Kessel was a hellhole, the worst prison in the entire Empire. Luke, couldn't, wouldn't do this to them. Would he?  
  
"Just be quiet and listen!" Luke hissed. "You're going to be sent on a standard Imperial Lambda class shuttle. Do you think you one of you can handle piloting it?"  
  
"Wha...?" Biggs began, but Luke didn't give him a chance to continue.  
  
"There will be two guards and two pilots. One of the panels under the benches will be lose, there is a box hidden inside. Retrieve it the moment the guards go to the front of the shuttle for the hyperspace jump. Inside the box you'll find four blasters and a laser cutter. Use the cutter to free yourselves. Remember to wait until the they've made the jump before attacking, you can alter your course once you've dealt with with the guards and pilots." His eyes scanned their faces, looking at identical expressions of amazement.  
  
"Luke, I..." Biggs began, not sure what he wanted to say. "Thank you."  
  
Luke just looked at him and nodded He turned, about to leave, but Brake stopped him.  
  
"Luke, you know what our mission was?" Luke nodded and Brake continued. "What happened to the ship we were suppose to be escorting?" It hadn't even occurred to Biggs to think about what had happened to their mission. Trust Brake to be all business.  
  
"It was captured," Luke told them, deadpan. "The crew was executed and the senator detained."  
  
"Senator?" Biggs asked, surprised.  
  
"Yes, the princess Leia Organa." Luke watched them for a while. "You didn't know?"  
  
"No," Brake said. Luke looked troubled now.  
  
Luke turned to leave for a second time, but this time, Biggs stopped him. "Luke, is there anyway, I mean..."  
  
"Don't ask me to come with you, Biggs, I can't. I serve the Empire now." Luke glanced around the room once last time as if daring anyone else to detain him, before leaving.  
  
//Thanks Luke, whatever this cost you, I'll find a way to repay you, someday.//  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Luke watched the Death Star grow closer out of the shuttles view port. His father sat at his side, his dark form somehow emanating both calm, and malice. Luke tried to keep his mind empty, purged of any incriminating thoughts. What he had done, what he had dared to do... was unthinkable, that he had succeeded, unimaginable. Yet, despite his fear of discovery, he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his heart. Perhaps now things would return to how they had been before the rebels were captured. Perhaps now, somehow, he would be able to turn his thoughts away from the princess.  
  
The look in her eyes when she had seen him enter her cell had been unfamiliar. She had been guarded of course, but she also felt relief upon seeing him... and something else. She hadn't wanted him to leave, he didn't know why, she just didn't. Her thoughts had been so confused he hadn't been able to make heads or tails of them, for some reason he doubted that she could either.  
  
When he had held her... he pushed those thought away. He couldn't think about her, not with his father sitting right next to him.  
  
"Your thoughts turn to the princess, my son."  
  
Luke felt himself stiffen, only for a second before he reasserted his control over himself. He braced himself. "Yes Father," he responded, keeping his eyes locked straight ahead.  
  
"You are concerned for her?" Vader's voice seemed to form the words strangely, as if he knew something beyond what he chose to reveal.  
  
"Yes father."  
  
"Why?"  
  
The question was so simple, but Luke knew he couldn't answer. "I... I don't know."  
  
"Forget her, my son, it is for the better. Do not let your personal feelings interfere... again."  
  
"Again?" Shock thundered through his thoughts, quickly becoming fear. Fear, fear of what? Of his father?  
  
"I know you helped them escape."  
  
As the confirmation took form in his father's emotionless voice, so did his fears. No, his father wouldn't hurt him; he was terrified his father would tell the Emperor.  
  
Luke turned his gaze towards his fathers death mask visage. He kept his expression neutral, but knew it would make no difference, as his father was surely reading his emotions.  
  
He could feel his hands almost begin to tremble, but held on to his composure with all of his strength. The fear was both mind numbing, and painfully familiar.  
  
Luke wished he could read what was hidden beneath that covering of plastic and metal. Did his father even have expressions any longer? Was there anything that would have allowed him to glean his father's intentions?  
  
The Lord Vader continued to watch his son for a time longer. Luke could feel the weight of that gaze settling on him. Would his father tell the Emperor? Vader would never tolerate failure, and that was what it had been, a failure.  
  
Luke felt shame fill him, fighting with his fear. He looked down at his gloved hands, clutched together. Whatever happened, he deserved it... didn't he?  
  
"I will not inform the Emperor."  
  
Luke felt all the tension go out of him at once. He closed his eyes. Of course his father wouldn't tell Palpatine, his father protected him.  
  
"Thank you," he said quietly, opening his eyes.  
  
His father's posture and voice seemed to discount the thanks as irrelevant. "Do not fail our master again, my son. If the Emperor discovers your disobedience, he will not be lenient."  
  
"Yes Father," Luke replied, the fear had gone leaving behind a sense of numbness. Master, his father had said, //their// master. There was sour feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Han Solo resisted the urge to grumble to himself as he was ushered into the transport. He and Chewie been taken into "custody" and told they could expect their "trial" once they had been transfered to the nearest Imperial station, which translated into his being taken prisoner and sent off to the nearest petty magistrate and then either shunted off to some labor camp. Even if he somehow managed to get away, Jabba was going to have his head for dumping that shipment of spice, and to top it all off the Imperials had confiscated the Falcon. Those bastards had taken his ship! This sort of thing didn't happened to him! He was the best! It wasn't fair!  
  
That had to have been the worst day of his life.  
  
Alright, so there were a few days that might just have been worse, like the day he'd been kicked out of the Imperial Navy. Okay, so maybe that day hadn't been so bad, he wasn't very good with orders anyway, but the day that crazy Xokxian had...  
  
The Stormtroopers escorting them forced him down onto a bench next to Chewie and chained his hands into place. He took in the dura-steel walls and floor, and the typical harsh florescent lighting. It made him feel unfathomably depressed. Chewie seemed to fight to restrain himself as his arms were locked into place. He shifted his feet inside his shoes, they hurt from having to stand for so long. A small tendril of fear reached up inside of him and he forced it down. He would find a way out of this, he always did.  
  
Sitting across from him was an incredibly beautiful woman. He blinked, and then scowled to himself. Since when was he so easily distracted by woman, even beautiful ones?  
  
At second glance he noticed she looked extremely worn out; strands of her hair were escaping the ornate braids she wore, and her white gown was wrinkled. He had the vague notion he had seen her before.  
  
She was looking downwards, lost in thought. She looked dejected.  
  
//Of course she looks upset, she's a prisoner!// he thought to himself.  
  
She looked up and caught his gaze. "What?" she asked, her voice sharp.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You were staring."  
  
"Sorry," he said, sounding more petulant then he'd intended. She didn't say anything. For a while, it was uncomfortably quiet, save for Chewie's occasional soft growl or moan.  
  
She looked back up to him, while twisting her hands together, she seemed to have made a decision of some sort, or maybe she just wanted to talk, she looked lonely. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to snap." Her eyes were lined with red, as if she'd been crying, she ran her fingers through the material of white dress; the action made her look childish. He realized suddenly how young she must be, she didn't look older than eighteen, but she had a poise about her that made her seem older, as if she was royalty or something.  
  
He wondered what someone her age must have done to have been taken prisoner. Then again, he thought to himself, the Empire never seemed to need much of a reason.  
  
She looked at him and then at Chewie, they were the only prisoners on this transport. Solo had seen some others being ushered into different shuttles, but after he and Chewie had been brought into the last shuttle, there hadn't been any more prisoners. Chewie greeted her in Wookiee as she looked his way, she smiled at him and said "hello". Han doubted that she'd understood his companion's greeting, but she seemed to get the general meaning.  
  
She turned back to him, "Were you..." Her voice tapered off for a moment. She took a breath and continued. "Were you with the rebellion?"  
  
Han snorted, "Sweetheart, I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid." Her gaze darkened, and she frowned at him at his response.  
  
Wrong answer?  
  
"Fighting for freedom isn't stupidity," she hissed. Great, she's a rebel, he thought to himself, and then he wondered why he cared.  
  
Chewie made a snide comment, which Solo chose to ignore. He wondered how many people knew exactly how great a propensity Wookiees had for making snide comments.  
  
"Look, I call 'em, like I see 'em, and starting a war with the Empire, that's just suicide," he told her, with a smug look on his face. He crossed his arms and leaned back. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not too fond of the Empire," he said as he gazed around the transport's dimly lit interior pointedly, "but I recognize futility when I see it."  
  
"Sometimes sacrifices have to be made..." she said quietly, her gaze drifting away, becoming introspective.  
  
He leaned forward, bracing his hands on his knees. "You sound like you've been repeating that to yourself. Feeling sorry for getting captured?"  
  
She gave him a whithering look. "I don't think I need to point out, that you seem to have been captured as well, and since you're not part of the Alliance, that means you can't be more then a common criminal."  
  
"Hey!" he yelled, affronted. "I may be a criminal, but I'm not common!"  
  
Chewbacca, despite the dire situation they were in, managed a rumbling chuckle. Solo glared at him before turning back to the woman.  
  
"Oh really?" she said, her voice cold. "And I'd mistaken you for a pirate, or a smuggler."  
  
He scowled at her, she was perfectly aware that she had hit the nail on the head, and it pissed him off.  
  
//Bitch//  
  
"And may I point out, that unlike captured rebels, I'm not facing torture and execution." Which wasn't entirely true. He really didn't want to think about what Jabba was going to do once he got his slimy paws on him.  
  
She watched him for a moment, looking suddenly curious. "How did you get yourself captured anyway?"  
  
He opened his mouth to make a smartass comment and then shut it again. He suddenly remembered the man in the black cowl, and his blood froze for a second. He shook off the feeling in an instant. It wasn't everyday that someone managed to turn your beliefs on their heads, but Solo was, if nothing else, adaptable, and the key to adaptability was being able to ignore these things.  
  
He grinned a lopsidedly at her, "Just bad luck, Sweetheart."  
  
She rolled her eyes at him, she had lovely eyes. "There's no such thing as luck." He thought it sounded like she was quoting someone.  
  
She turned towards him, tilting her head slightly. "What's your name, anyway?"  
  
"Han Solo," he replied. Chewbacca made an indigent sound. "And this is Chewie," he added after a moment.  
  
She looked like she was debating how much to tell them. "I am Princess Leia Organa, senator to Alderaan."  
  
She seemed somewhat smug at his startled reaction. He took in the white gown again, //senatorial gown//, his mind supplied. He must have seen her before on the holonet. How could he have missed something so obvious?  
  
"The Empire arrested a senator?" he said once he found his voice.  
  
"Clearly," she responded dryly. "Palpatine has overstepped his bounds this time," she said with regal self-assurance, but Solo could detect a slight wavering in her tone.  
  
As she spoke he felt a slight shift in gravity and the room shook slightly. They'd arrived at their destination, wherever that was.  
  
"Well, //Princess//" he said placing emphasis on the title. He wasn't certain why he said it that way, it just felt right. "Looks like we've arrived."  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Vader watched his son as they strode down the corridors of he Death Star, they were to report to Tarkin. This displeased Vader, he was the Emperor's right hand, he did not wish to be made to take orders from the some petty fool, and he could sense a similar displeasure from his son.  
  
For his part, the boy kept his eyes trained forward and his thoughts focused, just as it should be. Vader's decision not to inform the Emperor of his son's betrayal had sealed the boy's loyalty, and while it might prove to be difficult to hide the betrayal from the Emperor later, Vader was certain he would succeed. The boy had seemed to be wavering in his dedication, but no longer. He was loyal, loyal to Vader, and Vader was loyal to the Emperor.  
  
What truly astounded Vader was what the boy had succeeded in doing. He had deceived him. Not only had the boy deceived him, he had learned to shield his thoughts for long enough for the rebels to safely escape. The ability was rudimentary, crude. The shield seemed to fluctuate, allowing flickering glances at stray thoughts, but it had been enough to allow his son to lie to him.  
  
Teaching oneself such a potentially difficult ability should not have been possible, but the boy had achieved it. The boy was full of surprises.  
It's done, I've posted, now you must write reviews. Yes, reviews are good. Reviews encourage me to write faster. :-) 


	9. An Important Note

Edit Notice 5/20/2005: It's been an insanely long time since I updated this, and, well I'm sure some of got peeved/gave up, but I'm going to finish it. Let it not be said that I don't listen to my reviewers (see Gene, it's not futile!).

I've just seen episode three, so I'm going to go back and alter bits of the story to fit the actual cannon information, so this is going to be tagged with an episode three spoiler warning.

Yes, this is an alternate universe story, but it only branches away from the official timeline when Luke is nine, and I'd like to stick with that. This means that as I replace chapters with edited versions (edited for cannon information, grammar, spelling, formatting and just because I feel like changing things), bits of the story will be considerably different, if you've read it before, you might want to go back and re-read those bits. Or don't if you don't feel like it because the basic plot will (probably) remain the same.

As I edit each chapter, I will put a notice on that chapter and the date I edited, so you'll know which chapters have been changed so far and which haven't.

Edited chapters will come out every few days and when I'm done with those, new chapters with appear about once a week.

**Don't review this chapter!** It's just going to get deleted and replaced when I finish chapter 9 (which is about a quarter done). The only reason it's here is to let everyone know what's going on.

If you feel the need to review (and I hope you do, I like most authors, love feedback - especially of the constructive variety), tag it on to another chapter. Don't be afraid to tell me my story sucks. Just tell me _why_ it sucks.


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